Pretty Woman
by Glee7
Summary: This is your typical love story...in no way.
1. The start of something beautiful.

_Here we go, just ask her out._ Santana thought to herself as she walked towards the blonde, she had been looking for the past three minutes.

"Hey, what are you doing tonight?"

"Hopefully you..." The blonde responded as she eyed Santana up and down.

"I was thinking, out for a drink."

"Well, I think we're passed the stage where you get me drunk and have your way with me."

_Oh, am so fucking her tonight_. Santana thought.

"Right...wanna go?"

As both left the library, Santana had to know her name.

"I am trying to find a pretty name for a pretty girl." Santana looked at the girl beside her, as she opened the door for her.

"Frannie."

"Well, Frannie...am Santana."

"Hot name for a hot girl like you." Frannie smiled back.

"Hey that's my line..."

"It's too good to not repeat it."

Frannie was in her second year in college. While Santana was in her first, Yale. The place where; you drown yourself in alcohol, end up in Brooklyn. And yet call it a Tuesday. The magical place where; you fuck anything that moves. God, the booze, the drugs, the girls.

The sex.

Walking to Frannie's dorm, Santana imagined the best sex of her life. Just by the way she talked, and moved her hips; it was definitely going to be a night to remember.

As the door opened, Frannie pushed Santana a little too hard; her back hit a dresser. Santana didn't have time to react. No, Frannie attacked her lips. The corner of the dresser now digging into her back.

Yeah, that left a mark.

Grabbing a hold of her jacket, Frannie walked backwards dragging Santana with her.

Santana's knees hit the frame of the bed, before she knew it.

"Fuck!"

"Oh, I know."

Frannie, had no fucking idea what was happening. Santana wasn't going to run, well at least not now. She had to finish the job. After getting Frannie naked, and removing her granny panties. She was panting her name, that was the time to run. Santana left a dazed Frannie, there was no way hell Santana could stay any longer.

Sure enough, Santana was done fucking college girls.

_Never again._

Santana avoided the library at all costs.

Two weeks, two fucking weeks had passed and she saw her coming her way.

_Fuck._

"Hi," Came Frannie. "You never called."

"Well, we didn't exactly exchange numbers." _What the fuck am I saying._

"Shit you're right," Frannie blushed. "Here..." She gave her number away. "Call me."

Santana saw her leave, there was no fucking way she'll call. She had to move, and fast. Santana found an apartment not too far away from campus, and she was gone within a week.

Things were looking brighter, until Santana heard that Frannie was looking for her; and that she went bat-shit crazy, when she found out she moved.

* * *

"Wanna go back to my place?" Santana asked, the girl she had been talking to for the past hour.

"Yeah," Said girl, grabbed her things. "Do you know her?" She asked as an angry blonde marched her way towards them.

"What?"

Slap!

"So, you're going fuck me and leave me?" Frannie asked. "You never called!" People started to stare at them.

"I lost your number." _Way to get rid of this crazy bitch._

"So, you were going to call? When? After you fucked this slut!" Frannie didn't give two shits how loud she was.

"I...I," _Fuck!_

"Yeah, you better start explaining Santana."

"Not here..." She dragged Frannie to her apartment, of all places.

"So?" Frannie asked.

"Frannie we're not..." Santana couldn't finish, Fran's tongue was down her throat.

Another awkward night of sex.

_Why, god why?_

"God, is just as good as I remembered." Frannie said, after she caught her breath.

_Definitely one-sided blondie._

Now Fran knew where Santana lived, not only that but she showed up the next two weeks. Making excuses to get in, Santana usually avoided sleeping there. But God dammit, it was her apartment. Why did she have to avoid her place...Frannie needed to go. Or, Santana had to move again.

_Another planet maybe?_

* * *

"Fran, can we talk," Came Santana from the kitchen, and sat down on the couch beside her. "I have something to tell you."

"Oh, my god I've thinking about telling you something too."

"That's great," Santana fake smiled. "listen, I know you've noticed the boxes."

"Yes...that's what I was thinking...we should move in together."

"I'm moving." They both finished at the same time.

Silence.

"Ah, I got into Colombia." _Why the fuck am I telling her this._

"Oh," Frannie was lost. "I can apply."

"Frannie...I don't think that's such a great idea."

"Why the fuck not!"

_Shit._

"Calm down...We're not dating."

Slap!

"Then why the fuck, have I been spending time here for two whole weeks?"

"Because you don't ask if you could come in, you just do. And honestly, I don't know why you're here."

"Fuck you!"

Slap!

Fran left.

That was the last time she saw her.

_Thank god! _


	2. Mystery blonde.

That's it, that's the blonde.

_That's the one._

"You don't look so good..." Santana asked a table over. She had been sitting there for five seconds, when she noticed the expression on the blonde. Her date was late, but so was she. But Santana wanted to make an entrance.

"He won't shut up about himself." The beautiful woman smiled, "I've been sitting here for two hours..." She laughed.

_I am going to marry this woman, shit that's creepy._

The blonde didn't care that a stranger was talking to her, _thank you red wine._ She thought, this night was going to be long. By the fifth glass, her heals came off; that's when she stopped giving a shit. What glass was this who the fuck knows?

"He's coming back." _Here goes another glass._

"Did I tell you, I own the company business?" Biff asked.

"Mmhm."

"No," Santana replied. She could have sworn, the girl tried not to laugh. "But am sure it sounds interesting."

"Oh, it is."_ Dumb-ass._ Both thought.

"So, what's the company we're talking about?" Santana asked. The hazel-green eyed beauty ordered another glass.

"McIntosh apples."

"Oh yeah, John started it right?" Santana asked. The blonde eyed her, how the fuck... "Didn't he fall in love with a relative? And had to leave north?" Biff's face fell.

"Ah," Biff tried. "But he married Hanna Doran."

"Because he had to." The beauty was beyond impressed, of the knowledge this Latina had.

So, she smiled.

That was the moment she had been waiting for.

"You know I heard a rumor that you guys have small...dicks." Santana made a face, as she gestured with her hand the small space between her thumb and index finger.

"Really?" The blonde asked, as she smiled again.

"What's your name?" Biff asked Santana.

"Sorry not into small dicks, but thanks." _Was that a snort, from the blonde?_

"And am sure this beautiful blonde isn't either...You wanna get out of here?" She asked looking into hazel-green eyes.

"Gladly."

They both stepped out.

Who cares about their dates. And their small dicks.

This night couldn't be more perfect, rescued a beautiful woman from the small-handed monster. The breeze of the summer night was perfect. But not as perfect, as this blonde standing a few feet away from her. That long blonde hair made waves with the wind, time seemed to stop. Santana felt her hands getting sweaty, she was nervous.

"Thanks for saving me, I thought I was going to die of boredom."

"Yeah, in the bedroom." Santana made the girl laugh.

"Who said,_ I_ was going to sleep with him?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't...want to get a piece of pizza?" The question fell out of her mouth, before her brain even caught up.

"Sure, but I think_ I_ should be inviting you...after all you are my knight in shining armor."

Santana smiled.

_Does dimples are cute._ The blonde thought.

They started walking.

"Who was the idiot who set you up with, lil dickie." Santana turned to the hazel eyed girl.

"Me."

"Oh, shit," Santana cringed. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine...I don't know, what I was thinking when I said yes."

"Well at least you're getting the best pizza in New York...with me." Santana smiled.

"Are you saying that, you're my price?"

"I could be, if you play your cards right." Santana wiggled her eyebrows.

"I'm not sure, am not really into that."

_We'll see, we'll see._

Both girls came to the pizza shop a minute later. Both ordered and sat in a table close to the window.

"This better be the best pizza ever, that check was not."

"It will be, be patient," Santana said as she removed her coat.

"What's so great about this place?"

"The music."

"I've heard better." The green eyes explored the place.

"Like what? The same fucking song on the ratio."

"There's nothing wrong with modern music."

"They all sound the same." Santana finally sat down.

"Whatever..." The warmest smile appeared on the mystery beautiful girl. "What kind of music to you listen to?"

_Crazy by Gnarls Barkley_ started playing.

"A fucking classic," Santana said as she mouths every word of the song. The pizza was placed between them, and digged in.

"Oh. My. God." Hazel eyes became wide.

"What the song, or pizza?" Santana asked.

"Both."

"I told you."

Santana couldn't stop looking at her.

"God, you're beautiful."

She blushed.

"No."

"What? You don't believe me now?" Santana tilted her head.

"I am not into girls."

"That blush said otherwise."

"Ugh, are you trying to get in my pants."

"I am trying to make you believe, you are beautiful." Santana waited. "Don't tell me, you don't think you are beautiful?"

Hazel eyes rolled.

"My point exactly."

By the time the song ended, they both sat there looking into each other's eyes.

"Wait here." Santana said, as she made her way to the counter. She asked for a pen and paper. When she came back, she made a list.

"What are you doing?"

"Making a list, Barbie."

"No shit...what for?" The blonde asked.

"Well I can't leave tonight and not make a..."

"Move?" The mystery girl asked again.

"Ha, no."

"Then?"

"A list of songs for you to listen to...Barbie, I can't believe with such a pretty face like yours. You don't have a fucking clue, about good music."

"Fuck you!"

"Oh, yeah that too..." Santana wrote it down. "It's another CeeLo green, song."

"What kind of shit, am I going to listen to."

"Trust me will ya." She finished writing.

"What if I don't?" Hazel-green eyes scanned to the list.

"Well, if you don't...you don't have to call me...here Barbie." Santana handed the list of songs, to the beauty in front of her.

"And why would I call?" She asked.

"God, do you always question everything."

"Maybe." The girl saw the number at the bottom of the paper.

"Well, I better go..."

"Why?" They both laughed. "Is this your move, leave and make the girls believe that; they made the first move."

"Actually, they ask me if I can take them to bed." Santana winked and left the shop.

Quinn was left speechless.

_Did that really just happen. _


	3. You.

"So?" Rachel asked.

"So, what Rach?" Quinn asked her friend.

"Are you going to call? It's been two days; if you don't call, she'll forget about you." Rachel had a point.

"Ugh, I don't know."

Quinn couldn't stop talking about; the Latina she met over the weekend. How she was saved from a shity date, had the best pizza in New York, and finally found a song she has on repeat. If Rachel didn't know any better, she'd say Quinn was more than interested. She's never seen Quinn act this way since...high school.

Rachel had been waiting for Quinn to find the right person. She knew about the void Beth had left in her life; Puck was no help, that ship was going to crash eventually.

Rachel grabbed the paper away from the blonde and dialed the number. Tired of all same conversations about the mystery person, she had enough.

"It's ringing." She handed the phone to her friend.

"I fucking..." Quinn begin.

"You fucking who?" Came a voice from the phone.

"Not you."

"Ouch." Santana said, as Quinn laughed.

"What do I own the pleasure of this call, Barbie."

"How did...never mind."

"I was hoping you didn't forget, about me blondie."

Santana was beginning to think this call would never happen, a straight blonde being hit by a lesbian. And expecting to call, maybe she had scared does green eyes. _Fuck._ Santana had thought after a day.

"What is she saying?"

"Nothing." Said Quinn.

"Nothing, that's why you called?"

"No, I...my friend called you."

"Oh, well tell her thank you...I guess if you are not interested maybe I'll take her out." Santana said as she made her way out a music shop.

"No!" Quinn said quickly.

Rachel looked at her funny; god, whoever she is, she's doing something right. If not all the right things.

"Not into that huh?" She laughed.

Now Quinn was nervous.

"I listen to the songs." Came the statement Santana was waiting for two long ass days. She couldn't be happier.

"And?"

"Not bad..."

"She won't stop humming to them." Rachel said as she made lunch.

"That's great..._hey sweetie_...can I call you later." Santana said to someone else. Maybe Rachel was right, Santana forgot about the blonde. Quinn gasped, and heard the line become dead.

"What an asshole..." Quinn finally said as she grabbed her sandwich.

"What?" Rachel sat at the table.

"She called someone, _sweetie_."

"I told you so." Rachel knew this too well, oh yeah. This is the person for Quinn.

Quinn demands attention, she needs to be swept off her feet. A few have done that, but have failed to keep her interested. Quinn demands work, she needs to know; she's worth the time. It might sound like, a lot of work. But honestly that's how it's supposed to be. She's just very vocal about what she wants, and if she doesn't say anything well...that's worse, she doesn't want to see their fucking face.

"Ugh, fuck her...her loss." Quinn was bitter, why did she sound so calm? And why was she hitting on her, she could be wasting her time.

Nothing was said as they ate, more like angry eating for Quinn. Why was she mad, they're not together. They are nothing. Just two single people in New York city.

This girl already moved on.

Quinn's phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Sorry, what about I take you out for a cup of coffee." Santana asked.

"I don't know..._sweetie_."

"Oh, come on. I'll explain...three sound good?"

"I-"

"Great I'll text you the address." Santana said and hung up.

_God, fucking dammit._

"Why does she always do that." Quinn was never a person of frustration, but this Latina was testing her.

Rachel laughed.

* * *

A crowded Coffee shop.

"Hi!" The Latina greeted.

"Hey," Quinn turned around to meet the most beautiful brown eyes, she'd ever seen. No, she was not going to tell her.

"I got two, Latte?" Santana handed the cup to Quinn.

_Why haven't I asked her name? What kind of idiot..._

"Thanks."

They sat away from the many people in the line.

"Which one was it?" Santana asked as she took a sip.

_Fuck that's hot, keep it together._

"Which one what?"

"Here we go..." Santana stated as she laughed it off. "Song."

"Oh, the funky one."

Santana laughed. "Yeah, one of my favorites."

"So? _Sweetie_?"

"Yes, dear?" She mocked.

Quinn slapped her arm.

"Ow." Santana comforted herself. "Too early to be abusive, don't you think?"

Quinn gave her a look; oh, so cold.

"It was a friend...but if you want, I can call you that." Santana explained.

"How do I know, you don't have a girlfriend? And you just want to fuck me."

"All you could do is trust me, if you're up for the challenge." Santana retorted.

Fabray's were ones to always compete, never backed down on challenges.

_Oh, It's so on._

Santana saw the look she was receiving from the beautiful woman in front of her. Was she flirting back?

_She'll be the death of me._

"I think, I have to keep remining you that you are not into that."

"I never, said never." Quinn said.

_Oh, It's so on._

"Now, how would I know; I'm not just an experiment. Because Barbie, _am not into that_." She sat back.

Quinn seemed to think about this for a moment, she never really thought about it.

"Love is love."

"Great answer, but that doesn't change anything blondie."

"How about this?" Quinn lean in and pecked Santana's lips for two seconds.

Two glorious seconds.

Santana let out a heavy sigh.

_Fuck._

"Kissing strangers huh?" Santana asked, still dazed from the short kiss.

"Just wanted to make sure."

"And?"

"I had better." Quinn shrugged. _Why are my lips still buzzing?_

Santana laughed.

"I doubt it," Santana smiled. "Is it too late to ask for your name, beautiful."

Quinn's cheeks put the color red to shame.

"Quinn, Quinn Fabray."

"Well, Quinn Fabray. I am Santana, Santana Lopez." She mocked her.

Quinn smiled widely. That didn't go unnoticed by Santana.

"God, I love your smile."

"Are you always this forward?" Quinn tilted her hear as she asked.

"Are you always asking obvious questions?"

As they decided to leave the coffee shop, Santana offered a walk around Central Park.

"So, where did this Barbie grow up?"

No one had ever asked Quinn where she grew up, it was always; what do you do? And where's your place?

"You know my name already, stop calling me that." Quinn blushed every time she heard Santana's voice call her Barbie.

"Just answer the question, will ya?"

"Lima, Ohio. You?"

"Well, I never had a permanent place..."

Quinn was wondering if she was a run-away.

"I want to say all over the world." Santana finished.

"World?"

"Yes, sweetheart..."

"Care to explain?"

"I think, I've done enough explaining for a life-time," Santana laughed. "I don't want to talk about myself...am here because I want to get to know you." Santana had to hold on to something, if it was going to be a next time.

What was about this Latina that Quinn felt drawn to. Mystery? Intrigued? Always something new? Uncertainty? Whatever the fuck it was, god was it working.

"Okay, I...have a sister, my dad is a lawyer. Mom is an accountant that drinks more than her body weight." Quinn gave the simple answer.

Santana chuckled.

"No, I mean; your childhood, I want to know the little Barbie that you were."

Quinn was taking back, was she really asking about a little Quinn Fabray. Lucy to be exact.

"Well, I had braces...I was over weight..." She sighed at the thought. "I was the ugly duckling you know, the back sheep of the family...sometimes I was excluded from family photos."

Santana never wanted to kill a family of assholes before. She just wanted to hold her, and never let go.

_I'll never do that to our kids. Okay, too fucking soon. Why am I being so creepy?_ Santana thought.

But she listened.

"Every little thing was a competition...it was always trophies, metals, first place ribbons." God, she hated that house. "So, before high school. I transferred; I lost the braces, lost the weight. And became a cheerleader."

Santana couldn't be prouder of a stranger before. She wished, she could have been there and hold her through it all. Funny thing she never pictured Quinn ever being ugly.

"God, you're beautiful." Santana let it slip.

Quinn blushed again; she was starting to believe that she was always beautiful.

Santana was so sincere.

"I bet you looked hot in a cheerleading uniform." Santana had to diverse the conversation to a little lighter one.

Green eyes rolled.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

_God, she's driving me crazy._

"Oh, yeah. I'd love to know," She wiggled her eyebrows. "So, what happened to the beautiful girl with braces?"

"She's somewhere deep inside..."

"Wanky."

Slap! On the arm again.

"You like it rough, don't you?"

"You'll never find out." Quinn said as she smiled;_ this girl, what is it about her?_

_We'll see._

Both girls sat on a bench overlooking the park, it was beautiful. Trees swayed with the wind, like the most amazing art that should be appreciated. And it was, Santana got her phone out and snapped a few photos.

As Quinn looked at the trees, memorizing this beautiful day. Santana had taken a photo of her; you couldn't see her face, but you could tell there was a smile.

_Dork._

Quinn wasn't good with feelings; she's been too hurt, to trust in someone again. She of course, built walls. What else was she supposed to do, every time she let someone in; it was gossip to Lima. She fucking hated that town.

Sweet Lucy, she was gone. But in moments like these, she missed her.

So, she let go.

Quinn made faces to the camera. As silly as it all looked, it was comfortable. Not give a shit who was looking at them. Nothing mattered anymore, she was enjoying the moment.

This was the moment Santana realized...

_She's fucking perfect._


	4. For the record.

After the 'date' at Central Park, both agreed to stay friends. Much to Santana's whines and pouts.

Being friends with someone, has been harder than Santana could have imagine. Sure, she wants more, but she'd never force anything on her. God, knows how many guys have hit on her. And it's so disgusting, so friends have to be. But Quinn, is not so innocent; all does glances, touches, and the biting of her lip.

It's been a week since Central Park; yes, they've called each other. And agreed to go out, but to Quinn's surprise she didn't know where.

They met outside a doughnut shop.

"You want to fill me with doughnuts, and then kill me somewhere in the city?" Quinn asked, as she really stuffed a jelly doughnut in her mouth.

Santana couldn't help her laugh.

_She's so cute._

"If I kill you, I wouldn't really have a shot now, would I?"

"Who said you did?" Quinn tilted her head.

_That fucking tilting head when she questions me. Fucking adorable._

"You're right...we're friends." Santana made her way to the counter, and left a surprised Quinn behind.

Santana payed for the meal.

* * *

They made their way out the shop.

"Where are we going?" Quinn asked for the millionth time.

"No matter how many times you ask, I'll never tell you Barbie."

Hazel eyes rolled so hard it was almost heard.

"How, you get girls. I'll never know..."

"Yeah, I wonder what you're doing here with me..."

"I was promised food..."

Both laughed.

"Am I, your food bank?"

"Officially, yes." The blonde smiled.

"I'll take it."

Both got a cab, and Santana let the driver know where to go. Quinn had no idea where the fuck they were going. It drove her crazy not knowing where she'd end up. But she knew if she was going to stay friends with Santana; then she'll have to get used to new places. Lately, she's been craving more of...

_What the fuck is this feeling?_

"We're here." Santana said as she paid the driver, and helped Quinn get out.

Quinn looked around.

"Since this _Barbie_, still has no good taste in music. I thought..."

"A record store, was a good idea." Quinn finished for her.

Santana smiled and nodded.

"Shall we?" Santana held the door open for Quinn.

"Alright, I'll buy you every record I think you need; but I have a condition..." Santana begin.

"We're not fucking."

"What kind of person, do you think I am?"

"The kind, that wants to get in my pants."

Silence.

"What's the condition..."

"You can't ask any questions, deal?"

Quinn seemed to think about it.

"Okay, but I think I'll need more food."

She made Santana laugh.

_Does dimples are fucking adorable._

"Ugh, I'll be broke in a week."

Santana lead the way to the back of the shop, where all the good stuff was.

"No...no...mmm, no," Santana said as she looked over a pile of old records. "Yes!"

"Wha..." Quinn stopped. Santana made a face as she heard a question coming.

"Sorry." Quinn smiled showing her teeth.

"We're going to start with the classics. And before you ask...am talking about Frank Sinatra."

"Oh."

"Bobby Darin...a little Elvis...let's see," Santana had a few records in hand already. "Let's not forget Nat King Cole...classic...ugh yes! Ella Fitzgerald...god, Louis Armstrong...Tony Bennett."

Quinn couldn't stop her smile spread across her face. What did Santana learn all this? How could someone love music this much? And how her face lights up when she remembers the names, on the cover albums.

Quinn has never seen Santana this happy, but she hopes Santana never stops.

"Let's get the hits from the 50's." Santana said as she handed the records to Quinn, for her to look at them.

"Hey Sanny!" A girl made her way to Santana and touched her arm.

_Who's this slut._ Quinn thought.

"Hey, you got what I ordered?" Santana responded to the girl; forgetting hazel-green eyes were on her.

"Yeah, I got it in the back." The girl walked away.

"Wanky..."

Santana went back the eyeing the albums. A moment passed and she noticed an annoyed Quinn; so, much for a first date...wait is it?

"I know, you're dying to ask who she is."

"No, not really." Quinn certainly annoyed, she tried to be indifferent.

"Well, since I always end up explaining...I called her sweetie, and you bitched at me."

"I did not!"

"Look blondie, I'll give it to you straight...I hope is not the last time..."

Slap!

_This blonde, has a heavy hand._ Her right arm, was stinging a little.

"Ow, okay...Dany wants to get in my pants but; I just don't think she should sleep, with her boss."

Quinn frowned; she was dying to ask questions.

"I own the place."

"Oh."

"Here, Sanny." Danny said, as she handed an old album to Santana. Not forgetting the arm touch.

_Ugh._ Green eyes rolled.

"Thanks...I think we're ready to go," Santana lead the way to the counter. "Could you put all of these in a bag...thanks...wait," Santana turned to Quinn. "Do you have a record player?"

"Not at the moment."

"Well, now you will."

Santana got a very pricey, but very beautiful record player.

"I'm going to need help, getting to my apartment." Quinn said as she struggled with all the things.

Santana just laughed, and got a cab once again. The ride back to Quinn's apartment was silent, but comfortable. Until...

"Are you going to fuck her?"

The Question was so unexpected, it threw Santana off.

"Ah...am not gonna lie, and say I haven't thought about it..."

"Of course..." She rolled her hazel eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Every guy, would..."

"I don't know if you noticed, but I don't have a dick..." Santana looked down.

"You don't need one to-"

"Do I, sense jealousy?"

"You wish."

Silence.

"Women..." Santana rolled her eyes.

_Feisty._

"For the record, I don't sleep around..."

Quinn gave her a glare.

"Anymore..." Santana finished.

"I don't care what you do, with Dany the slutty..."

"What?"

They both laughed.

Once they got to her door, Santana smiled. She knew, she made on impact in Quinn's life. Well a small music impact.

"I'll see you later, Barbie."

Santana was about to steal a kiss, but figured all good things come to people who wait. So, she hugged her and waked away.

_What is this funny feeling?_


	5. The plan.

Another week went by so fast, and Quinn had more questions.

_What does she do, besides the owning a record store?_

_How did she get into music?_

_Where the fuck, is she from?_

_Was she a run-away?_

_How old is she?_

It was eating Quinn alive. And she hated it. But she loved the music, how could she be such a virgin with music. She had definitely, heard some of the names, and songs. But she never, actually paid attention to them. Quinn had discovered a new world; Rachel had noticed the mood change.

"Do you like her?" Rachel asked her, over tea.

"Santana, she's...she's..." Quinn wasn't sure.

"All you talk about, is her."

"Of course, I like her; why else would I still hang out with her Rach?"

"I have to meet her...let's go to the bar down the street...she better be hot, I mean...she's got you all, confused...I wonder if she's good in bed, or she's over compensating with the attitude...Or-" Rachel can defiantly, ramble on for hours...why was Quinn living with her again?

"Ugh, if I do...could you stop talking."

"Yes!"

"Fine."

"Yay!" Rachel, left to get ready for her Broadway show that night.

* * *

Quinn was supposed to wait for Santana outside the bar. The night was cold, it's New York after all. Quinn wore a sundress; she was not going to dress up for Santana. Oh, no; Santana will never have the satisfaction.

"Hey, beautiful." Santana greeted.

"Hi!" Quinn hugged her, with a kiss on the cheek.

_She smells good._ Quinn thought.

"Am I, meeting your friends?"

"It seems, the rolls have changed."

Santana laughed at the remark.

"I sure hope so."

"Shut up." Quinn rolled her eyes.

As both went in the bar, and ordered drinks. Santana was a little nervous._ Wait am not meeting her parents. But they will decide if am welcome, to their little family. It can't be that bad..._

"Hey!" A group of people said in union.

"Hey guys!"

"Is this Santana?" A blonde, eyed fucked her.

"Yeah. So, Santana. This group of lovely assholes are my friends; that cause me headaches."

"Well, hello! I hope you've all heard of me." Santana winked at Quinn.

"Oh, she wouldn't stop talking about you! San this...San that...It's like a broken record...like the one you got her...and let me tell you, she won't stop playing all the albums. I'm getting sick of the 50's music, I tried to introduce her to Broadway music, and she said it was boring. Ugh, how did you make Quinnie here like new music?" Rachel rambled on.

"Well, _Quinnie_ here didn't have a chance," Santana smiled widely. "I told her not to ask anything...I know it was a challenge."

"Should I tell you, she loves challenges."

"Does she now?" Santana asked. Knowing she'll use this later on.

"Rachel!" Quinn whined.

"What? We're supposed, to get to know each other." Rachel shrugged.

"Do you dance?" The blonde from earlier asked.

"Do I dance? Who doesn't?" Santana, held the hand of another blonde.

Quinn seemed, a little confused. Santana was out with her, not her friend...that slut. She tried to ignore them; but how could she, when Santana is dry-humping her friend.

But Santana had a plan.

"I believe you already know my name, what's yours?" She finally asked, after a few songs.

"Kitty."

"Well, Kitty. You're very pretty..."

Santana saw Kitty blush, as they danced together. After a few songs, Santana took a few shots. It had been a long week, and needed to let off some steam. Quinn was dancing with a blonde guy; that looked like her brother. Kitty was fun, so fucking handsy. So, Santana did the same.

It's not like, they're dry-humping each other.

God, Kitty's hands were traveling south with every move of her body. Santana whispered a few things to Kitty's ear. It gave her a blush, as a per of angry hazel eyes wanted to murder both.

She loved the chase.

Santana ignored Quinn for a while, downed some shots with Kitty, Rachel, and some really gay guy. Santana was so close to Rachel, that Kitty moved her hands up and down Santana's arm. Trying to prove her territory.

It was almost comical how Kitty acted around Rachel. Quinn was beyond annoyed. She almost had steam coming out of her ears. Santana just laughed. She knew Rachel, didn't want to sleep with her. She was just being friendly, but Kitty; didn't seem like she liked that, very much.

Maybe that's why she likes blondes, they're fucking crazy...in bed.

* * *

After a while of dancing together, Santana went to the packed bathroom.

"Quinnie..." Kitty came close to Quinn at the bar, certainty hitting Quinn. "Would you be mad, if I go to her place?"

"Ah..." Quinn didn't really like the question, why did it bother her so much. They are not together. Two single people. Why was she repeating this again?

"You're not even gay." _Way to go Quinn._

"So? She's fucking hot...if she knows how to dance, I can't imagine what she can do in bed...you know, I wouldn't mind being seen with that piece of ass." Kitty was now day-dreaming.

"You're drunk."

"Drunk, _and_ horny."

"Ew, I don't think she likes easy girls."

"So, now you know what she likes?" Kitty downed a shot.

"No one, likes easy."

"If you don't go home with her, then I am." Kitty left.

_What a good fucking friend._

"Barbie, looking for Ken?" Santana said from behind, and very close to her ear.

"Didn't find it here."

"Too bad, that person might close to you. And you don't even know it."

"I didn't consider you a sap." Quinn smiled, as she saw chocolate eyes roll.

"That's what happens when, I drink Tequila...you don't want to know, what happens when I drink Whisky."

"What happens?"

"I start kissing blondes." Santana winked.

"So, romantic."

"Only for you sweetheart." Santana winked again.

"Are you, taking Kitty home?"

Santana was a little taken back.

"She would be a good fuck, but she's your friend...which means, I have to see her after."

"So, you never call after you fuck a girl. May I say very classy." Quinn sipped her drink.

"Well, after a few years of crazy blondes U-Haling me. Believe me is the best." Santana sat there so calm, without a care in the world.

This was bothering Quinn.

"U-Haling?"

"Yeah, girls' move way to fast...they think that if you fuck once, you are destined to get married in two weeks."

Quinn laughed; she almost fell from the stool.

_Definitely drunk._

Santana, loved that laugh. So, carefree, happy. She couldn't keep her eyes, away from this blonde.

"Fuck, It's to annoying." Santana laughed.

"I bet." Quinn's laughter died down.

"Wanna get out of here?" Santana asked.

"Ah, I..."

"Not like that blondie...I'll take you home...you look fucked."

"Okay."

* * *

It was colder than usual, and now Quinn was shivering. Santana gave away her jacket, she didn't mind going back home, for it to smell different.

"Thanks."

"Sure, blondie."

"I should probably tell you something..." Quinn tried not to start a fit of hiccups, as they began walking through the cold wind. "I think we should be friends."

_Fuck._

The plan failed.

"I thought, we already were?"

"You know, what I mean."

"Yeah..." Santana felt Quinn come to a stop. "Well, see you soon." Santana grabbed her jacket from Quinn's shoulders and began walking away.

"San..."

"I'll see you around." Santana walked away.

Quinn wasn't even close, to her apartment building. And she was cold.

Something was weird. She couldn't put her finger on it.


	6. Home.

Two weeks, two fucking weeks had passed. And the only thing Quinn has done, is listen to the albums. The songs are full of happiness; but somehow, she can't bring herself to do the same. Rachel, has been rambling about Broadway...again.

And Kurt rambles on, about broaches; and whatever else...it's not like she cares, after two hours.

Was this her life, before Santana...just listening, to her friends complain. Quinn loves them, but they never shut the fuck up. It should be normal...

But something was off.

Something was wrong.

Yes, they've texted here and there. But it wasn't the same. Santana had explained; that she had a business meeting out of town. That didn't explain a lot, considering she always did.

The phone rang.

"Hello?" Quinn answer.

"Hey Quinn."

That was weird.

"Hi!"

"I know I've been busy lately, and I was wondering, if we could meet for a bagel."

Quinn couldn't help the smile forming on her lips.

"Sure."

* * *

Bakery.

"...So? Do you like her?" A blonde asked Santana.

"She's hot."

"That's not what, I asked."

Santana rolled her eyes, and as she stopped. Her eyes, locked on a blonde. Said blonde was wearing a bright sundress, it was simple. But beautiful, just like her. Santana couldn't hold, the smile appearing on her face.

"Hey, Q."

"Hi...were, you talking about me?" Quinn sat across from them. Every time she sees does dimples; she feels a little giddy. A school girl, to be exact.

With a laugh, Santana answered. "Don't fatter yourself, blondie..."

"Hi! Am Brittany...Santana's only friend."

As Quinn laughed, Santana gave her a dirty look.

"Am actually surprised, you have one." She smiled.

"Fuck you, both!" Santana shook her head.

People were starting to listen. Specially the only couple, setting beside them.

"So, Do you?"

"Ugh, you don't have to like someone, to sleep with them. She's hot, that's all that matters." She took a bite of her bagel.

"Is that how, you take her to bed?" Quinn stole a piece of her bagel.

Britt turned her attention to Santana.

"Why are you, both ganging up on me?" Santana said with a mouth full.

"I think, you're losing your touch..." Britt brushed her shoulder.

Santana was shocked, wait...was she actually losing her touch. It had been a while; since she had sex. What was her name again...

"Oh, please...I could have you both, moa-"

"Santana!" Both said.

People turned to them. The couple decided it was time to go.

Great. Quinn thought.

Both blondes, couldn't deny the thought. Sure, Britt was the only one; with experience in that department. Best year of her life, if you ask her.

"What? Don't believe me?" Santana eyed both of them. "Stay in denial, then." She took another bite of her bagel.

"You're so full of yourself."

"Only, when am alone." She ate in peace, for a while. Does faces, were priceless. She'll tell this story someday.

"Please tell me, there's actually a reason; to why am here."

"No, I just wanted to make sure. You listen to this."

"Ass." Quinn answered.

This was, what she was missing. She was missing, the dumb comments, the cockiness, the no-filter, the smile, the dimples, the Latina siting across from her. Quinn, still felt bad about the bar.

Outside the bakery. Brittany said her goodbyes, and walked home.

"Wanna to get, ice cream?"

"You just had two bagels."

"I don't see your point." Santana shook her head.

Hazel eyes rolled, as they began walking.

"So, who's the unlucky girl?"

With a laugh Santana replied. "She's ah...she's hot...I might-"

"What? Sleep with her."

"Well, yeah...I don't know, it'd be nice to not run in the mornings."

Quinn understood, maybe she guilt Santana into not calling. Or the fact, of not having a relationship with anyone.

"Listen, am sorry about the bar..."

"No, I get it...should've known." Santana gave a comforting smile, despite the ugly feeling inside.

"I shouldn't have, been such an asshole..."

"Actually, you let me down easy."

"Am so-"

"Q, it's cool. We're good."

Sigh.

The rest of the day, they spend eating ice cream. A few smiles, were shown. Until both had to go.

Maybe being friends, isn't so bad after all.

But why did it feel...empty, a little distant.

* * *

Quinn was set up, to another date.

A fucking drag.

Boring, same questions over diner. She couldn't wait to get out. At the corner of her green eyes, she saw Santana ordering something at the counter. So, she didn't care the guy was still talking and made her way to her.

"Hey."

Santana turned around.

"Oh, shit hi," San hugged her. "What are you doing here Q?"

"Shitty date." She motioned with her head.

"Ugh, see that wouldn't happen if you date girls."

"Yeah, yeah."

Her order arrived.

"Well, Q. Nice to see you." Santana was about to leave, but Quinn grabbed her wrist.

"Can I walk you home?"

"I usually ask the girl..."

They stepped out.

"Where do you live?"

"Too early in the night, for your obvious questions Q."

"Ugh, am regretting walking you home."

"You don't have to. I'm not making you do anything; you don't want to do."

Why was that the first person to say that to Quinn? Could it be that everyone wants to get in her pants, or they want something from her...

A funny, fuzzy feeling settled in her stomach, as she spoke.

"I know...I guess, I still don't know anything about you."

"Oh, yeah...well there's nothing much. But ask away, Quinnie."

"What did you mean, all over the world?"

"Ah, well...my parents were in the military, so I got to go to pretty cool places...Hawaii, London, Puerto Rico, France...too many places to remember."

"Wow, I never saw you as a military brat." Quinn laughed.

"Yeah me either, that's why I told my parents I wanted to stay with my abuela. I wish I didn't say that, that old lady hated me. Funny thing, she bullied me..." Santana laughed.

Did Quinn drink a shot of Tequila? Because she felt something very familiar. A burning in the pit of her stomach.

"No, she didn't."

"She, sure did."

Quinn laughed.

"Did she slushy you?"

"No, but she sure spilled a few stews on my legs." Santana chuckle at the memory.

"What?" Quinn couldn't stop laughing.

"She was an ass, but I still love her."

"So, where did she live?"

"Queens."

"Oh."

"Yeah, it was fun."

"What do you do?" Quinn's head instantly tilted with every question.

"Well, I work at a record label."

"Is that why you know, so much about music?"

"That, and I just grew up listening to all kinds of music, it was my escape. Almost like a permanent home. No matter where I was, or where I was going there was always the same song waiting for me. I guess the only permanent thing, I still have in my life."

Another kind of shot settled in Quinn's stomach, but stronger. She felt, so stupid for asking all kinds of questions, but if it means knowing Santana better. She'll ask every single question.

"I'd love to tell you about my turtle growing up, but that didn't end well," Santana came to a stop. "Well, this is me."

"Oh, Wow."

Santana's apartment building is so big, and luxurious.

"I'd find a bigger place, but I just got used to it. It's the home I never got," Santana started walking away. "Alright Q, see you around."

"Yeah, goodbye."

Quinn never expected any of this, she expected for Santana to avoid the conversation. Quinn found the most intriguing person, and yet she hated talking about herself. Somehow Santana let her in, for once she wasn't so defensive.

The way she spoke, the spark in her eyes...and a funny feeling settled.

Once again.


	7. Sorry.

"Earth to Quinn!" Rachel waved her hand in front of Quinn, one Wednesday afternoon.

It had been three days, since she walked Santana home. Three days of feeling...different, lonely maybe.

Confused is a better word, to describe what she's feeling.

"What Rachel?" Quinn asked, as she washed dishes.

"I was talking about my new co-star...what is wrong with you? You seem off." Rachel dried the remaining dishes.

"I...I don't know Rachel..." She let her hands fall in the water.

"Is it Santana?"

"Yeah...wait." Drying her hands now, she turned to Rachel.

"All you do, is listen to sad music in your room...you're beginning, to depress my plants"

"I guess, I miss the stupid dates..." She ignored, the stupid comment.

"I thought you said, they weren't dates."

"I..."

Sigh.

"Don't tell me...you miss her."

Both sat at the dinner table.

"Would it be so bad?" Quinn covered her face with the dirty towel, without even knowing it.

"No, but you did tell her to just be friends...I mean were you really, expecting her to wait forever? She's single, and wants a relationship...well was. A good catch is not single for long...I mean look at me, from relationship to relationship. Honey, you made your decision at the bar. And maybe sometimes we have to move on, we'll find someone who you could love enough." Rachel once again rambled, for what seemed the third time today.

"Love enough? I don't want someone I could love enough to stay with. God Rachel, you suck at advice."

"Am just saying." She got up, to finish up the previous job.

"No, you're just fucked up." Quinn laughed at her.

'Hey, what are you doing?' The text showed on Quinn's phone.

'For the last time, am not sending you nudes.' She chuckled to herself.

'No, not that...are you busy?'

'Not really.'

'Could you come over, kind of need to talk to someone.'

'On, my way'

Quinn ran out her apartment, not giving two shits what Rachel was asking her. As she got to the lobby of Santana's apartment building, she was given a card key to Santana's apartment door. From the lobby boy. Quinn walked in, and found her apartment trashed...

"Hey, hey..." Quinn made Santana stop from throwing a...toaster?

What the fuck is she doing?

"Fucking women," Santana turned away from the toaster. "I should have known."

"Whose ass am I going to kick."

Santana let out a chuckled. This is why she needed the blonde, to calm her down. And apparently to stop her from destroying her favorite toaster.

"One day, she wants to fuck...and the next she fucks me over." The same rage, was starting to bubble up again.

"Oh, sweetie..."

"No, you don't get it. She used me for a fucking contract, what kind of person does that?...see this is why I don't call."

"San, what do you mean..."

"You, you got in my head...you made me think I was an asshole, for not calling back...look where it got me. Is it really that easy to use me? Sorry, I made you come here..."

"San..."

Santana waited for a moment, she attempted to calm down.

Sigh.

All Santana could do, was sit down on her couch. This invited Quinn to do the same.

"It should have been Britt..." Santana said almost as a whisper. "I should have never let her go...now I have to watch her get married, to someone who can't even get it up...the only blonde who got me, never judged me...am so fucking stup-"

Something came to Quinn out of nowhere, and Kissed her.

Was this to stop her, or to make sure she did feel something for Santana. All these fucking feelings, or whatever the fuck it is whenever Quinn sees Santana be herself. When she wants to only talk about the blonde more than herself. Or every fucking time Santana left Quinn, with a different feeling; and now said feeling was becoming stronger.

A new place, every time they went out. New music. God, what was happening to Quinn.

Is this how it feels to be infatuated with someone; to be intoxicated. To want to know every single little stupid thing about someone, and still end up talking about yourself? To not give a shit what anybody thought. To be in the moment...fucking hippies. And their peace and love, and all that load of shit.

Quinn was dwelling on it, and really bad.

What about the girl, that used Santana? She played Santana, and now. Well, seems like Quinn is doing the same thing. Maybe not for a contract, but to figure her feeling towards Santana.

Yeah, really classy.

What's worse, not calling someone you just fucked; or use a kiss, to figure out if you feel anything?

In better words: use someone for a contract, or use someone to figure out if you might be bi.

"San?" A voice from the door said.

"I have to go." Quinn leaned back.

Am such an asshole.

"Britt?" Santana asked. "How long have you been standing there?" She saw Quinn walk out.

What is this pinching in my stomach?

"Long enough..."

"Wanky..." Santana laughed at her own joke.

"San...I can't leave Art-"

"I know, I...I just think that was one of the stupidest thing I've ever done...I don't expect you to leave him...I want you to be happy, even if it's not with me."

"I know." Brittany hugged her ex.

"Enough of this petty shit...I need a drink...and possibly breadsticks."

Both laughed at the childish comment.

* * *

Four days later, Santana had to call Quinn.

Something needed to change.

"Hey Q, can we talk?"

"Are you breaking up with me?"

Santana couldn't hold the laugh.

"Ah, not exactly."

"Oh."

"Yeah...ah...same coffee shop?" Santana asked.

"Sure."

"Hi." Santana greeted.

Quinn noticed an old but well-kept album.

"Hey..."

Now setting across from each other, she spoke.

"Listen, whatever we're doing...this...weird dance we got going on. Has to stop." Santana motioned between them.

Was she serious?

Wait she is.

"I don't know-"

"Quinn..." Santana looked serious.

"Are you on your period?" Great joke Quinn. She thought.

"No..."

"Why?" Quinn asked clearly, confused by this conversation.

"Am going nowhere, and I just seem to drag you into things you don't want to do. And I should have stopped when you said you weren't into that...I talked to Britt, after you left. And I realize that...I want more, am tired of chasing dead-ends. You are not into me...I shouldn't be chasing you." Santana explained and after no response, she got up and started walking away. Leaving the album on the table for Quinn.

"San..."

"No, I'm sorry...I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable with me around...take care."

Did she hear it right, she was sorry? Quinn never really felt uncomfortable; every guy hit on her and it always felt awkward, but she was never uncomfortable around Santana. It was the opposite, she felt like herself. Like a lifelong friend. But Quinn knew she was doing this for herself. Santana didn't want to get hurt, by someone who is giving her nothing in return.

So, she let Santana walk away.

Suddenly this felt like a goodbye, and maybe it was.

* * *

A day became, a week. A week became, a month.

Quinn didn't go out on dates, didn't go out of her room. Rachel was beginning to think Quinn will never recover. Quinn saw Santana again, at the music store. Nothing much was said; she just returned the old album; Santana had left at the coffee shop, when both parted ways.

Santana knew the blonde would go back to the shop, so she stopped hanging out there. Her sanctuary was gone, she tried the gym. A fucking drag. It had been a good month without sex, and something or someone was about to die if she didn't get her way.

"What happened Britt?" Santana asked her friend; she had called crying.

So, she wasted no time in going to her apartment.

"Artie..."

"Fucking hot wheels...I swear." Santana held her close.

"Sanny..."

"Where the fuck is fast and furious?"

"He...he..." Brittany sobbed.

"I knew he couldn't get it up..." She needed to lighten up the mood.

"San..."

"Where the fuck is the winner of Dancing with the stars, Britt?"

"He said...I didn't love him the way I loved you...and I...I-"

"Oh, Britt..." The hug became tighter, as she moved her hands up and down her arm.

Britt leaned in closer to Santana.

"Maybe he's right..." She finally let out.

Sigh.

"I don't think, this is such a good idea."


	8. Whiskey.

"What the Fuck!" Artie yelled.

"Artie...I can explain."

"No, Britt...let me...alright Mario Karts, you are not enough for her. I don't think I am either, but here we are letting her down. Letting her go was one of the biggest regrets of my life, but guess what asshat? I still want to see her happy even if she's not with me, and you...you are not cutting it. Because guess what Happy feet? I am this close to throwing you out the window if you don't man up, well...man down." Santana left.

_Great more drama._

Nothing makes since anymore.

Fucking blondes, and their pretty long legs; and never-ending curves. Ugh, two months without sex. She felt her hair falling, her attention span was more like a toddler, she found herself smoking more than usual. Santana felt like trashing her apartment, every day.

* * *

So, to calm herself down she went to a new bar.

"I'll take, Whiskey. Neat."

"Are you going, to start kissing a blonde soon?" Quinn?

"Nah...am starting to get over blondes..." She chuckled, to herself. "Who am I kidding, they are my wine and breadsticks."

"You mean, bread?"

"No," Santana downed the Whiskey. "Keep them coming...thanks." She mentioned to the bartender.

"You don't look so good."

"No shit sugar tits...Sorry...I-"

"No, I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything...that I know of." Santana squinted her eyes.

Quinn smiled at the sight of does dimples.

"Leading you on."

"Nah, I knew what I was getting into." Another glass became empty.

"I kissed you, to see if I felt something..."

"Am sure you felt nothing." Third glass.

"Well..."

"Yeah, I know. You felt disgusted...you don't have to tell me Quinn." Fourth glass.

"No..."

"You felt nothing and you had better; yeah, I heard you say that before."

"Would you stop...you are not being a nice drunk."

"Guess what Quinnie, am gonna die alone...I should just buy twenty cats...but I hate them. Ugh, my fucking dilemma." Fifth glass.

"San..."

"No, I mean it...who in the right set of mind would want a...self-centered asshole, who can't even stay in one bed that is not my own. Who runs away from everything; who hits on straight people. Who...needs to buy cats."

Quinn laughed. God, she missed Santana and her ramblings.

"You know, I...I get that my problems are first world, and that this is nothing...I've seen pretty fucked up shit. And I should consider myself lucky...god, I own a music shop...and is my life...funny thing, am good. But not happy, am in a good place; but am just not happy." Santana wanted to say all does things, but like always. She's not good with words, or feelings in that matter.

"Should I get snakes instead, you know the crazy lady with snakes...don't go near her house, she'll bite you too."

Quinn chuckled.

"Goats, are more your tempo."

Both laughed.

More Whiskey disappeared.

"Take care, Barbie." Santana grabbed her jacket, and walked away. After paying the bartender.

"You too."

Two weak smiles.

Santana was outside the bar trying to get a cab.

"Wait..." Quinn came running after her, she never felt like rushing to someone that way; she just did. Her feet had led the way to Santana without a doubt. This rush of...warm and cold feeling inside her running everywhere. It was her whole-body by now.

It was time for Quinn to make an impact in Santana's life. To stop running from problems.

"I was never uncomfortable...I was, am always myself when you're around...and every time you leave me; I get a new feeling. Maybe am not into girls..."

"Great, Q...way to make a girl feel special." Santana managed to get a cab.

"But am into you..."

Both stopped. Santana turned around, was this the Whiskey talking? _Wait she didn't drink. Was there a conversation, about snakes and goats?_

"Listen...I tried, okay."

"That's the point San...I was never good at letting people down...but you...you, stubborn asshole; you kept coming back, and expected nothing. While I expected everything..."

"Good realization blondie...a little too late. I have to go." She got in the cab, but before she closed the door. Quinn got in.

Santana had completely given up on Quinn. And that hurt like hell. And yet it felt so cold.

"What do you want from me Quinn? A fucking parade?"

That hurt.

"Am here, trying to tell you I like you and you...you...ugh." The cab moved to the busy streets of New York.

"That's not going to change anything...one day you will realize that I was just an experiment. And that you like dick...I been down this road...am not going back...I've been used too many times."

Maybe Santana was right. Nothing was certain about this situation, no matter how you feel at the beginning; there's always a different feeling at the end. Quinn's intentions where never to hurt Santana, but she had a point. How will she know, she's not being used again?

"I guess, all you have to do is trust me." Quinn quoted Santana.

She smiled. Dimple showing through the lights around the streets.

"Am not really into that." Santana mocked.

They laughed until the cab came to a stop. Santana payed, and both got out.

"So, what now?"

"We can go up and..." Quinn said, as Santana got excited. "Talk."

"Ugh." Brown eyes rolled.

Once inside, they sat on the same couch that started it all.

"Ask away...alcohol is working, and I'll answer anything."

"Why do you run away from..."

"People, places, problems...too many p's." Santana laughed leaning back a little.

"Seriously."

"I guess, that's my nature...when something gets to serious, I run-away. Sometimes I do it, and I don't realize it until am alone in my bed...maybe moving, twelve times does that to you."

"Shit."

"Yeah, I remember being in the second house and thought...this, this is it. Boy, was I wrong. Mami was never around; she worked nights. And papi, well he was always on base...I remember watching Matilda, and though...that's me! Believe me, I still try to move things with my mind." Santana laughed at the memory.

Sigh.

Quinn couldn't look away, she was mesmerized. The spark appeared once again, in her eyes. Quinn was so lost, and yet she felt like finding something.

"That's when I realized I liked girls...not Matilda...Mrs. Honey. Oh. My. God."

Quinn smiled widely.

"How did you tell your parents?"

"Well, I was just tired of watching Britney Spears videos, and well I just went up to them and maned up. I thought, I was going to be disowned. To my surprise, both felt bad that they never saw it. And apologized for not being there...that same night I told them; I couldn't be traveling anymore. I wanted a permanent home...I am glad I was selfish that night. It changed my life forever."

Santana was being so honest.

Whiskey.

_Noted._

Quinn always hated when people talked about themselves. But Santana...Santana was different from everyone else.

"What about your grandma?"

"Oh, that's another story."

"I got time..."

"We might need a fucking week..."

Quinn chuckled and shook her head.

"That woman, that woman raised me...no matter how much she hated me for being gay. I have a soft spot for her."

"And, why's that?"

"She taught me how to be me, and never apologize...to not give two shits about anyone. To be strong, and never let anyone break me...I guess, that last one is still in prosses."

"She sounds like, your role model."

Santana couldn't hold the big laugh coming out her mouth.

"She's my inspiration." Santana was too drunk to realize, she actually said that at loud.

"I kind of want, to meet her."

"Oh, no you don't...she'll call you names, until you cry."

There was a moment of comfortable silence.

"Can we, just be friends?" Santana asked the unexpected question.

"I thought?..."

"I just...it looks like am not built for this...and neither are you...I don't want both of us hating each other, if we do this."

"Well, don't piss me off."

"Oh, but I will Barbie."

"Friends...for now." Quinn said, as she kissed Santana's cheek.

"I don't think getting my hopes up, is a good idea Quinn."

"Am not, why are you so fucking defensive?" The blonde frowned.

"Why are you always, asking fucking questions?"

"You, just did." Quinn shook her head.

"Well, stop asking...and start stating shit."

"Fuck you, Santana."

"Believe me I wish, it's been a while..." Santana rested her head on the couch.

"Ew!"

"What? Am human."

"Don't tell me, you have a porn collection somewhere in this apartment." Green eyes moved around the living-room.

"As a matter of fact, yes! And am very proud of it too." Santana smiled widely.

"Are you sure, you're not a guy?"

Santana chuckled.

"If I was, I'd be hard all the time."

"You'd be in the ER, all the time."

"Or..."

"No!" Quinn shouted.

"What I didn't say anything." Santana raised her hands, as if she was innocent.

That feeling of warm and cold, the feeling of being full. The feeling of way too many Tequila shots, going down your stomach. That...that right there, is love.

Love is like running a fucking marathon without water, the burning; the thirst. The feeling of being lighter than a feather, that amazing feeling. She sure felt it before, Beth.

Now, now it's almost like having a second chance at love.


	9. Again.

_We're just two lost souls_

_Swimming in a fish bowl_

_Year after year._

Why did that speak volumes to Quinn? Almost as if it was speaking to her; like she was the only person in the world, who was meant to hear does words. Like Quinn was waiting her whole life just so, she could hear that song.

It brought her back, when Beth was gone. When no one was there, except Mercedes. She felt so numb, so life-less. If not having her little girl, nothing mattered.

Everything was dark for a while, her family let her in again. But for what? She was shown cold walls, that somehow supposed to be her childhood. The same child that died in that room, too many broken things, and yet nothing to pick up.

Empty promises, empty words. Empty people talking about their days.

So, she did what she does best. Get up, and fight. And she did.

Got into Yale. Nothing, and no one were going to stop her.

Puck, of course he came back and fucked it all up.

She started writing, she wrote and wrote. Until her fingerprints where no longer visible. Quinn wrote small sets, small sets became scenes; and well, scenes became plays. That's her outlet, writing everything and anything.

Writing her pain away.

After she stopped explaining to Santana on a Tuesday afternoon. She was hoping for Santana to walk away. She didn't, she listen. She hugged her.

"Wish you were here." Ironic, how that was the name of the song. And Santana just hugged her tighter, never letting go.

It was a windy day at Central Park, and their coats were bringing more warmth. The bench was cold as fuck, but they sucked it up.

"But am here now," Santana finally said. "And am not going anywhere."

"Please, don't leave me San."

Santana, knew she couldn't. Quinn doesn't need another asshole to leave her.

"Never."

"I hate crying."

"Well, you won't anymore sweetheart."

Quinn waited for Santana to call her names, or a mean comment. She didn't.

"Shelby, is that what you said her name was?" Santana asked, as she looked into very sad hazel eyes.

"Yeah."

Sniff.

"I am sure she's a great mother, but am sure you'd be better."

Quinn teary-eyed, looked at Santana for a brief moment. She knew that feeling to well by now.

"Am sure...she's the best version of you." Santana said honestly.

"She is...she's perfect."

Santana smiled picturing a small Quinn, running around.

"I think, both of you are perfect."

Quinn wanted to kiss her. But stopped, she remembered the agreement.

"You know...your future husband is very lucky." Santana said, as she wiped the tears away from Quinn's rosy cheeks.

_It might be you. You idiot!_

"We'll find your Ken, Barbie."

"Shut up."

"Come on...I got all my hopes on you."

_And I got all mine on you._

"Yeah, yeah." Green eyes rolled.

"You got a better shot, at marriage than me."

"San..."

"No...stop...I've given up already...should I get a ferret?"

Quinn frowned. _Where the fuck did that come from?_

"What? They are cute!" Santana defended herself.

_You're cute._

"Why not, a Tasmanian devil?"

"We'd probably kill each other."

Quinn laughed.

"Okay, what about a tiger, well a cub." Santana looked down at a crying mess.

"San, you're getting more exotic."

"Where have I heard that before, oh yeah. Bed."

"How are you not a guy?" Quinn question, again.

"Oh, come on. You love me."

_I don't know yet._

"You are one crazy bitch."

"Heard that one too." Santana smiled.

And just like that, they were back together. Well, friends.

* * *

Britt had set a double date with Artie, Santana, and Quinn.

"Aren't we too old for arcade games Britt? We probably look like child molesters here." Santana said, as they entered the crowded arcade.

"Okay, don't say that in a place full of kids." Quinn turned to Santana.

"Yeah Sanny, remember last time; we got kicked out of Chucky Cheeses."

"Britt, it was fucking Chucky Cheeses...and that pizza was shit...plus it was your idea." Santana said, as they sat on a booth.

"It wasn't my idea, to fool around in the-"

"Britt!" Santana warned. Both Artie, and Quinn didn't need to know that.

"It was a long time ago...B, loves telling the story...but it's not so much fun, when you have to cover your girlfriend's tits from seven-year-olds."

There was a pinch in Quinn's stomach, not a good one.

"It was funny, when they took our picture. So, they could put it up on the wall." Britt smiled.

"Last time, I went with you alone at a public place."

"Oh, Sanny."

Everyone saw the look Britt was giving Santana.

Oh, shit.

All played random games, until Artie saw foosball.

"Aw, shit!" Artie said.

"We all know, this game gives you legs." Santana said not giving a shit. Still a little bitter, for what he did to Brittany.

"Santana!" Quinn pinched her arm, hard.

"Ow, fuck!" Santana whined.

"It's okay Quinn. I am use to the jokes."

"Okay, let's step on it."

After a round, all got their drinks.

"Too bad, Redbull gives you wings instead of legs." Santana said to Artie.

Slap!

"Ow!"

They all played two rounds of foosball. Quinn and Santana played against Britt and Artie.

Santana shouted to Quinn, who also was screaming her demands on the game.

"Yes! Right there..." Santana shouted.

"Move to the left...right there..."

"Ah, am so close..."

"Stop moving to the right..." Quinn tried moving the handles.

"I need to get in there..."

"Keep going, don't stop..."

"Yes! Yes!"

"Ah!"

"I was so close..." Santana continued shouting.

"Am, coming..."

Both didn't know they were making sex noises. Once again getting kicked out.

"Thanks San..." Artie said outside the arcade.

"What? Quinn was doing it too!"

"Don't blame me!"

"I hate all of you." Santana rolled her eyes.

_So, so you think you can tell_

_Heaven from hell_

_Blue skies from pain _


	10. The pout.

"So, how many girlfriends have you had?"

_Fuck!_

"Ah, kind of lost count..." Santana focused on her food.

"Pig!"

Santana rolled her eyes.

"How many boyfriends, have _you_ had?"

"I don't know..."

"Slut." Santana laughed.

"I was counting."

"Right." Santana smiled waiting for an answer.

"Five."

"What?" She frowned.

"Yeah, am not a whore like you."

"Ouch." Santana touched her heart.

Quinn chuckled at the simple gesture.

"So, you broke five hearts?"

"More like they broke me."

"I want names..." Santana said mid chew.

"Stop acting so badass, you're not."

"Excuse me!"

"My point exactly." Quinn tilted her head.

"Ugh, am nice to you...but that can change."

"I'd like you see you try, _sweet cheeks_."

"_Sweet cheeks?_" Santana frowned.

Both were on their lunch break, a Thursday afternoon. And Quinn for the first-time surprised Santana at her office. After Quinn had asked what record label she worked for.

"That makes me feel, like a fat squirrel."

Quinn lost it. She could actually see it.

"Fuck you, Fabray."

"Wouldn't _you_ like that."

Santana laughed.

"Wouldn't _you_, like to know." Santana made a flirtatious gaze.

"Please, we all know _you_ do."

Santana just chuckled.

_What are you doing Quinn?_

"Here I thought, I had the biggest ego." Santana took a bite her sandwich.

"You can't be that good in bed...maybe girls don't call _you_ back."

"Now, am being insulted." She touched her chest, once again.

"Am just saying..." An evil smiled found Quinn's lips.

"Oh, sweetheart...I'd put you in a wheel chair...you'd be begging Artie, for his wheel chair."

"Maybe you do, have the biggest ego here."

"You don't know half of it, Barbie." Santana smiled.

"I think it's all a bluff." Quinn squinted her eyes.

"I'd show you but...I got no examples...except you, blondie."

"Ugh, gross."

"That's what you think now, just wait until I-"

"Okay, you really need to get laid." Quinn cleaned her face with a napkin.

"We could fix that..."

"No!"

"What? I didn't say you, Barbie."

"Right." Green eyes rolled.

"I got my eyes on someone."

"Oh."

Suddenly it wasn't funny anymore.

"No, it's not you blondie...don't flatter yourself...am taking her out tonight." Santana took yet another bite of her sandwich.

"That's great..." Quinn gathered her trash, and grabbed the remains of Santana's sandwich. Throwing it all in the trash.

"Come on blondie, don't do that..." She ignored how Quinn threw her food away.

"Do what?" She tried to ignore her gaze.

"That," Santana pointed at her. "Pout."

Quinn said her goodbyes and left. Santana couldn't stop thinking about her pout. That adorable fucking pout.

Was it possible for Quinn to look cute, while mad? If it is, Santana was losing her fucking mind.

Santana's date was a fucking disaster. She spilled red wine on the girl's white dress, called her Quinn. Made the dumbest jokes, she's not even sure; she got them herself. And at some point, she started sweating.

What has Quinn done to her? Now she can't go out on dates, without being a complete idiot.

So, she rushed to her apartment.

* * *

"...Puck you can't just come back, and expect me to go back with you. It's been years, and I-"

"Have a girlfriend." _What the fuck am I saying._

She had to save her...again.

Quinn looked at Santana, she had to play the game if she wanted Puck to leave.

"I didn't know you were gay, Fabray."

"Why do you care." Santana came closer to Puck's face.

"She, sure wasn't when we were fucking."

"Funny thing, she said you had the smallest dick...she thought you had a vagina."

"San..."

"No, Q. He fucked you over, and am going to kill him."

"What are you gonna do, slap me with your vibrator?" Puck asked.

"It'd be more useful than you."

Puck made an attempt to swing; waiting for the movement, Santana ducked. And a swift motion, she punched the pit of his stomach. Sending him backwards, and stumbling to the hardwood floor.

Puck was out of air.

"You fucking..." He tried.

"What dyke? Yeah, but you got punched by one."

"Really Quinn, you change me for her?" Puck said, holding himself.

"At least I know, she'll never leave." Quinn hugged Santana from behind, restraining her.

"You should leave." Santana finally said.

And he did just that. Quinn closed the door behind Puck.

"Are you ok, Q?"

"Yeah, thanks...again."

"I wasn't going, to let him do anything to you Barbie."

"What are you doing here anyway, didn't you have a date?"

"Ah, yeah. Didn't work out, because of you." Still mad, she didn't mean to sound like that.

"What did I do?"

"I...I couldn't stop thinking about the face you made, when you left my office."

Quinn was silent.

"Why do you do this? Always making me think, am doing something wrong...always questioning myself...ugh, you make me..."

"I make you what Santana?"

"Crazy!"

"Welcome to my world!"

"Ugh, I can't have you...and then you act like I can...and I know I can't...you act so casual, and tell me you're into me...and what? Am supposed to just let you in, so one day you go back to Puck, because you miss dick. I can't do this Quinn. I fucking told you, I don't know what you want from me...we talked about this a million times, and yet here I am again...we tried being friends; we tried being apart. None of that shit works...I don't know what to do anymore." Santana stood there waiting.

"You think, you are the only one not knowing what to do!?...one day you're flirting and the next you want to be friends, and I have to wait for the next blonde to warm your sheets...and you flirting with Kitty...am not even sure you're over Brittany...it feels like you are filling the void, she left with whatever blonde crosses your path...how am I suppose be with someone who, won't even call after one fuck...yeah, you're not the only one confused Santana."

"You don't want me Quinn. You like the idea of me! Let's face it, you don't want to be with me. And I don't blame you...I wouldn't want to be with me either."

Both frustrated didn't noticed the door open, Rachel was listening to the whole conversation. Like a life-time soap opera.

All she needed at this point was popcorn.

"Why don't you try it, no commitment, no promises, no more people on the side." Rachel suggested.

Both looked at her.

"I think, Quinnie here doesn't want to be seen with me."

"Fuck you, Santana."

"Bite me!"

"You're such, a fucking child."

"Yeah, I guess a child that fucks every blonde in my path..."

"That's all you got from there...definitely a fucking child."

"You know what Fabray, look for another fucking experiment. Because am not here to wait and see if you actually like me." Santana was about to leave when Rachel blocked her path.

"You're in luck Q, she's not blonde. If she was, we'd go at it like you said."

"Enough!" Rachel yelled.

"I had it with both of you, now you two are going on a date...yes, a date; I don't care where or when. But both of you are going, am sick of the stupid chase you got going on. Ugh, I'm going to have wrinkles...thanks!"

Both stood in place, not knowing what to say.

"Quinn stop playing games. Santana stop fucking blondes, and let her in."

"Wanky."

"Ugh." hazel eyes rolled.

Santana smiled.

"Fuck you!" Quinn shouted.

"No, that comes later." Rachel said as she left.


	11. Of whiskey and glitter.

So, they sat there, not wanting to talk.

Clearly pissed off.

"What the fuck, do you want to order." Santana said breaking the ice. More like breaking hell.

"I don't know why the fuck am here, with the biggest asshole." Quinn smiled.

"Am flattered, now what the fuck do you want?"

"Not to be here."

"Wish not granted sweetheart."

"How I started to like you, I'll never know."

"Whatever, just order just so we can tell Rachel we did this."

"Can you stop rushing me." Quinn said, as she eyed the menu for the seventh time that night.

Santana clearly annoyed looked around the restaurant, and found a pretty dirty-blonde. She smiled at her; the other girl waved. Quinn followed Santana's eye sight. Once she noticed...

"Are you fucking kidding me." Her gaze full of danger.

"What? Am not taking you home." Santana said.

Quinn leaned closer, and pulled her ear.

"Aaah! Okay I'll stop."

"Asshole." Quinn said.

"I wonder, if she's wearing anything underneath her-"

"Santana!"

"What, I didn't look at her." Santana rolled her eyes.

"Worse date ever."

"I'll make it worse...you want to bet."

"I don't think you can top this." Quinn had put the menu down.

"Is that a challenge Fabray?"

"It is now."

"Deal."

After dinner, both decided to make it worse.

A Strip-club. Santana's idea.

"Classy."

"It was this, or a crack house."

"I love this." Quinn was glad.

"And I'll love the tits." Santana smiled for the future boobs.

"You are disgusting."

"Point to me."

"Ugh." Quinn rolled her eyes; Santana really went out of her way to make the date worse.

Santana went straight to a private dance, leaving Quinn behind. When she came back, she had lipstick all over her face. Also glitter from the stripper's boobs. Santana had the goofiest grin on her face.

"Charming." Quinn finally said, when Santana sat down.

"I told the stripper, to give you one too."

"Oh, no..."

"Oh, yes!"

Quinn was dragged away from her seat by a stripper. She hated the smell of sweaty people, mixed with cheap booze. When she came back, she punched Santana on the arm. And both got out.

Quinn threw up on the side walk, Santana felt like shit for doing this to her. So, she got a cab; going to Santana's apartment, Quinn couldn't be more pissed.

"I hate you!" Quinn finally said, as she controlled herself.

"I know."

"I never thought you would make this night worse..."

"You took the bet, how is it my fault?" She frowned, at Quinn.

"You took me to a strip-club!"

"Yeah, I sure as fuck did." Santana said confidently. She knew her victory.

"I hate you!"

"Yeah, you said that already."

Quinn was not having the best time in the cab, so when they got out; she threw up again. Santana didn't know what to do, so she carried her inside. Once in her apartment, she let her sleep it off on her bed. As she took the couch.

* * *

The next morning was...well.

"I'll take you home." Santana said, as she saw Quinn trying to sneak out.

"No, I don't want to do this again."

"I...I took it too far last night, am sorry."

"You, saying sorry...must be a blue moon." Quinn crossed her arms.

"Yeah...listen I really want to talk..."

"I think, I should be the one breaking up with you."

"We're not even...I'll get brunch." Santana shook her head, she certainty didn't need to make things worse.

"Ugh...fine." Quinn knew Santana would not give up on lunch.

Both left to a bakery down the street.

"Am really sorry, about last night."

"I don't think you are." Quinn gave a cold glare.

"What do you want me to do...fight a fucking shark?"

"No...why don't you let people in?"

"Well..." Santana was about to make a joke, but stopped herself as she got an icy-glare. So, she cleared her throat.

"I just...It's been hard trusting people, look what happened with the last girl. Not only her, but I just...I've been let down too many times, you know. I never felt like it was necessary to share feelings with someone, and when I do, I feel too vulnerable. It's like giving a piece of me to someone else...did you put Whiskey in my coffee?"

Quinn smiled, at how sincere the ramble had been.

"How do you expect, a relationship to work like that?"

"I don't...well not anymore. Sometimes I think Britt took too much shit from me, and I had to let go. I knew, I was dragging her down with me. Am over her; I just feel guilty; I couldn't fight for her."

Suddenly Quinn got her. Why she never let anyone in, why she doesn't stay for too long in relationships. Why she runs, not because she wants to, but because she can't stay long enough to break her own heart.

Santana can't afford to be broken again.

That's why all this mess started.

Santana is fighting herself, to be with Quinn.

"I'll tell you what, you take me out again...to make up for last night." Quinn was giving Santana one last chance.

"Alright..."

"No more strip-clubs!"

"Ugh, fine." Santana smiled.

"Three my place, don't be late." Quinn said and left.

Usually Santana made that exit.

_What the fuck!_

_Is this how it feels to be stumped? _


	12. Little things.

Santana was nervous, she has never been asked out the way Quinn had done. Not even a question, more like a statement.

_This funny feeling._

Quinn seemed confident, something about that was...so sexy. No apologies, no worries, not giving a shit.

_She, better not be fucking around._

Santana was so stumped, she just sat there looking at the empty seat in front of her. Almost as if waiting for a reply, from the chair.

Has she really been drinking Whiskey...Santana's hands were sweaty, her mind was blank, and that warm feeling in her stomach was new.

Santana loved the chase; it was the best part. She always waited for the perfect time, perfect line to say, and the perfect way to get in their pants. It was the rush, of making the move. The way the girls reacted to her complements, and forwardness. All the blushes she made them have. All the little touches, arms, hands, all seemed innocent. Always finding a new way to get the girl, how to approach them without being creepy, or acting condescending. It's a true art, in her eyes.

But this chase, is the chase of her life.

This time she had to get the girl.

After a while she left to get ready. And soon it was almost time.

* * *

Santana knocked on the door.

She wasn't running anymore, she was ready.

"Just on time," Quinn smiled. She noticed Santana had something behind her back. "Are you going to show me, what that is?" She pointed to her.

"Blondie, I had this for a long time...I only ask for one thing...take care of it for me, will ya?"

Santana give her a new album. More like old.

_The Beatles. Help!_

"I promise."

That knock out smile.

Quinn put the album in her room.

Santana held her hand as they both left the apartment. Both couldn't hide their smiles.

"Are you wearing comfortable shoes?" Santana asked, once outside.

"Ah, kind of."

"Looks like if they bother you, I'd have to carry you."

"What if it hurts now?" Quinn gave a mischievous smile.

"Come on, Cinderella." Santana chuckled.

Like a drill, Quinn knew better than ask where they would be going. Both got in a cab, and drove off.

Still holding hands.

* * *

"Go karting? Santana am wearing a dress." Quinn looked down, at her yellow sundress.

"We'll give a show then." Santana dragged Quinn out the cab, she paid and headed inside.

"I am not, giving a show."

"You could give _me_, a show." Santana winked.

"Not there yet..." Quinn said under her breath.

"Well, I don't know about you. But am dying for vanilla ice cream." She wiggled her eyebrows.

"I am not vanilla!"

"Sure."

"Santana!" Quinn untangled her hand from Santana's.

"You'll be saying that all night."

"No!" Quinn came to a stop.

_Yeah, am the child._

"What? Don't tell me you never slept with someone on the first date...because, _that's_ very vanilla." Santana raised her eyebrows.

"Am not a whore, like you." She crossed her arms.

_She's so fucking cute._

"I'll take that as a complement." Santana smiled, definitely amused.

"How?" Quinn laughed.

"Because I'm not vanilla."

"Fuck you!"

"Are you offering or..." Santana came closer. Quinn stumbled on her foot, and walked away. "You still didn't answer the question...god, you asshole." She made a funny walk, to catch up.

Both knew, who was the real child.

* * *

Santana made every wrong turn on the track, at every chance she got, she'd bump into Quinn. Both couldn't care less what the instructors were yelling at them. This only made Santana do more stupid shit.

Her hair was flowing like the most beautiful thing in the world. Her dress sometimes going up, her smiled could kill anyone. Her lips, red. Santana just stayed back and memorized her.

_She's perfect._

At the ice cream stand, Santana had gotten the biggest two scoops of cookie dough. Quinn got one scoop of butter pecan.

"So, vanilla." Santana stated, as they sat down.

"Would you stop."

"You'd be saying that too." Santana chuckled.

"So, I never asked you...when you were little-"

"Boob-less." Santana said, without missing a beat.

"No seriously." Quinn almost chocked.

"You just want to know, my dirty secret..."

"And what's that?"

"Oh, no...that will cost you, a lot more than a kiss."

"Just answer, the fucking question Santana."

"I will not tell you my secret, but I'll tell you something when I was little..."

Quinn put her chin on her hand waiting. Smiling of the fact that she'll get to imagine little a Sanny.

"When I was in first grade...Mrs. Porter asked where food goes, and well I was what six? Kids around me raised their hands, and well so did I...thank god she didn't pick me, because I was convinced, that food goes all the way down to your feet...it was so innocent of me to think that; well she picked another girl, and the answer was obviously the stomach. And I was so mind blown, I went home and didn't sleep for two days. Now I look back; and think of that little person." Santana's eyes shun, as she told the story.

Quinn had the warmest smile in the world. She couldn't stop smiling the whole time.

"That's so adorable...what happened?" Quinn joked.

"Ugh, blondes..."

"Of course." Hazel eyes rolled.

"Sometimes I miss her." Santana looked down.

"Yeah..." Both sighs, were heard.

"Okay, let's stop mopping around, we have another stop." Santana held her hand out for Quinn.

* * *

Once back to the city, the cab stopped on a random street. Santana, paid once again and headed out the cab. Helping Quinn.

"This better not be another strip-club."

"No, it's jazz."

Quinn was surprised of the answer. She's never been to this part of the city before, and now she sees herself coming back. Santana walked hand and hand with her, Quinn felt like a school girl again. All the effortless gestures, Santana made every time she was close. The way she walks, so confident of who she is. No apologies, so protective, it was mesmerizing.

The streets were filled with dreams, she knew it was the city where you could be anything. But now it was so clear, people may be assholes. But they are trying to get somewhere, or someone. She was lucky, Santana was showing her more than fun things to do; Santana was showing her the city, she loved. She was sharing, how much it means to her.

Quinn never pictured Santana, poetic or a person who appreciates everything. Quinn was surprised in the best way possible. She still hopes to be surprised like that every day of her life.

Once inside, Santana made her way to a small table. After a while of watching the band play, Quinn turned to look at her. The blue dimmed lights reflected her face, so calm, so content, so happy. Her eyes were closed, she took in the moment. Quinn couldn't help but smile, at this dork out of her time.

Quinn looked back at the band.

"Come on, let's go dance." Santana said, as she grabbed her hand.

"I don't know how to dance jazz."

"And you think I do?" Santana smiled back at her.

Santana knew Quinn was conflicted. But so was she, Santana doesn't want to hurt her. She want's Quinn to find her prince charming; she deserves so much more, than she could give her. She knows, that when that day comes; she'll have to forget about love altogether. She'll miss the days; when Quinn calls her out; when Quinn slaps her on the arm. She'll miss the days in the park. She'll miss the days where, both fight. Or when that smile won't be for her anymore.

They swayed to the smooth music, holding hands. Looking once in a while into each other's eyes. Taking each other's scents, taking in the moment. Quinn noticed the sad gaze Santana had; she knew she was thinking too hard.

"You're going, to kill all your brain cells." Quinn finally said.

"Don't have many, anyway..."

Santana made Quinn chuckle. She'll miss that too.

Santana leaned in and kissed her, very gently. Lips barely touched.

Santana moved back.

"Am sorry...I."

"No, don't." Quinn rested her head, on her shoulder.

She closed her eyes.


	13. Rash.

Back in the cab, Santana had the biggest smile. Quinn was so occupied of the warm feeling, that she didn't noticed; she was home.

Both got out.

"I guess this is it." she said, once she paid the cab driver.

"It is." Quinn smiled back.

"Want me to come in?"

"Very funny, San."

"If you let me in, I won't make you laugh." Santana wiggled her eyebrows.

"Goodnight San."

"Ugh, goodnight blondie."

Santana walked away. Yes, she was really doing this. No matter how hard Santana, tried to stay away from her; the blonde always found her way back to her. She knew this was another shot at a relationship. If Quinn was going to break her heart, then she will make it last a while. After all, this is not a forever after bullshit fairy tale. One day Quinn will realize, that she deserves more. But for now, she was going to enjoy the moment.

Quinn was going to break her heart.

It was just a matter of time.

* * *

"So, how long has it been?" Santana asked as they walked around the museum.

"What?"

"Sex."

"Santana there's children here...why did, we come to a children's museum anyway?"

"I don't know...I like it, okay...now answer me." At the corner of Santana's eye, she noticed a mom rushing her child away from them.

"Six." Quinn said almost ashamed.

"Weeks?"

"Months." She whispered.

"What!?" Santana shouted.

"Santana, stop being so loud."

"You'll be saying that, if you invite me in tonight." Santana whispered to her ear.

Quinn was so embarrassed; she was blushing like never before.

"Children." Quinn said through her gritted teeth. She was furious.

"Yeah, I want them too." Santana ignored her completely.

"Ugh, you are impossible."

"Not really, just invite me in."

"Never." Quinn walked away.

_Is that a challenge Fabray?_

After walking around the museum, Santana took Quinn for a pretzel.

"I bet you only know, one position."

"Excuse me?" Quinn almost chocked.

"That's what I thought...pillow princess."

"Ah." Quinn, just sat there with her mouth open.

"I bet you, just lay there." Santana knew, she was pushing it.

"I do not..."

"You are not defending yourself...that leaves me, to believe, am right."

"Well, you will never find out." She said with a tilt of her head, with wide eyes.

"Wanna bet?" Brown eyes squinted.

"No, because I know it won't be fair to you."

"You sure about that blondie."

"Super!"

Santana rolled her eyes.

"I'll bet a kiss."

"Where?"

"Lips, you ass." Quinn threw a napkin at her.

"Down or up?"

"Down or up?...ew!" Quinn finally got what she was saying.

* * *

A week later, they were walking home from Central Park. Both decided to work out together, there was not a lot of talking.

"You know, if I was you. I'd explode."

"It's been what two months, almost three?"

"Yeah, and my hand is getting tired." Santana rolled her wrist.

"Okay, don't touch me."

"What, come on. I'll..._rock_ you're world." Santana said, as she actually grabbed a rock on the side walk.

"Dork." Quinn grabbed the rock.

"Not in the sheets." She wiggled her eyebrows.

"Am glad, I'm home." Quinn came to a stop.

"So, what do you say we-"

"Goodbye, San." Quinn stopped Santana, from taking another step.

"Fine! Be ready next week, four a-clock."

* * *

Next week came, and both took a cooking class.

"How do you burn cookies?" Quinn asked looking to her right, and eyeing a pan full of burned cookies.

"Hey, am here to learn. Not be judged by someone who, dropped all the eggs...clumsy ass." Santana showed her tongue.

"Because you pushed me!"

"Excuses..."

"You are never, cooking for me." Quinn pointed her wooden spoon at her.

"Who said, I wanted to?"

After the class, both went their separate ways.

* * *

Improve class.

Quinn's idea.

"You, it was you...you gave me a rash." Santana said.

Now, she was regretting it. Everyone tried not to laugh.

Quinn was blushing so hard, it was ridiculous.

"No, I didn't."

"Okay everyone, first rule. Never say no, it's always yes and..." The instructor said.

The hell Quinn was going to say yes.

After the class, Santana couldn't stop laughing. She earned a good, hard punch on the arm. Santana walked her home again. Lately she would walk her home, and she was fine with it.

"I hate you!" Quinn said out on the street.

"What, it was your idea!"

"Ugh!"

Every time Quinn stopped at her door, Santana would try to get in. Every single time, and just like every time; Quinn would put her hand on her chest to stop her. And the usual goodbyes were said.

* * *

Art show.

"All I see, are boobs."

"When, don't you?"

"Yeah..." Santana shrugged her shoulders.

"I love this."

"Because of the boobs?"

"No!" Quinn looked her. _God, does lips._

"Oh, well I do."

"Of course, you do."

At the end of the night Santana, had bought the painting. And she was going to ship it to Quinn. But for now, they both went to their own home.

* * *

Rachel's play.

"She's so annoying, when she does that in the shower."

Santana thought of both of them, together in the shower.

Quinn knew that look.

"Not together!"

"Well, there goes my Sunday night."

Quinn just rolled her eyes, putting her attention on her friend.

In the cab ride home, it was silent.

Both got out. Same dance, of trying to get in happened again.

"Next week?" That's all Quinn asked.

"Yup."

"Goodnight San."

"Bye, princess."

* * *

The planetarium.

"You'll see _stars_ if we-"

"Not, going to happen."

"Right, because you're praying for your virginity back."

"Santana!"

"What?"

"I think we shouldn't go out where, kids are around."

"Whatever." Brown eyes rolled.

Walking home.

"How did you meet Brittany?"

"Three years ago, when I was going to Columbia."

"Yeah, because you clearly didn't study there."

"Hey, I graduated. Thank you very much."

"I'll need prove."

"Ugh, she was walking around campus, and well...I took her to my dorm."

"That's it?"

"I'd tell you what happened, but you're pretty Christian ears would fall off."

"You're such an ass."

"Thanks, I like yours too." Santana smiled.

Quinn blushed, but stopped Santana from entering her apartment building.

"Goodnight San."

"Uh huh."

Santana left.

* * *

Movie theater.

"Don't pick a romantic comedy." Santana warned.

"Two tickets, to a romantic movie please." Quinn said, after Santana left to get popcorn.

"Since when does popcorn, costs more than the tickets?"

"Stop complaining, theater eight." Quinn took the bag of popcorn.

Two hours later.

"I hate you!" Santana finally said.

"You liked it."

"Am never taking you out."

"Take me home." Quinn shook her head.

"Finally!" Santana looked back.

"No!"

"Fucking tease." Santana let out a heavy sigh.

In the cab.

"Why are you mad?" Quinn asked, as she noticed her looking out the window.

"Am not mad."

"Yes, you are."

"No, am not." Brown eyes fixed on hazel-green.

"You are."

Santana rolled her eyes.

"See!"

"Quinn, am not mad."

"Yes, you are look at you." She pointed to her face.

"Q,_ you_ are making me mad."

"I knew you were."

"Argh..." Santana turned her attention, on the streets of New York.

"Was it because it of the movie?"

"No."

"Yes, it was."

Santana just wanted a little peace, and silence. But Quinn was pushing her. Quinn could push her buttons.

"Can we, please not talk."

"Why?" Quinn asked.

"I'm about to throw you, out this fucking cab."

"Fine." Quinn crossed her arms, now she was mad.

"Great."

Two minutes later.

"What did I do?" Quinn asked.

Santana just closed her eyes, clearly Quinn was dwelling on it.

The cab driver, was getting a free show.

"Nothing!"

"Is that why, you're mad?" Quinn asked again. Clearly pushing it.

"Oh. My. God." Santana shook her head.

"Is it because you want more?"

Santana exhaled in frustration.

"No."

"It is." Quinn looked at her.

The cab stopped, and so did the conversation. Both stepped out.

"Are you going to tell me what's wro-"

Santana had enough and kissed her, she moved her lips in rhythm with Quinn's. Quinn didn't seem bothered and put her arms around Santana's neck. Once Santana pulled back, red lipstick was all over her lips.

"You were talking too much, Goodnight Quinn." Santana left a dazed Quinn behind.

Quinn saw her leave, and walked inside her building.

_That was unexpected._


	14. Blowing it.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Not you, blondie."

"I doubt it."

"A little too confident, there blondie."

Santana was thinking about does red lips, the same ones she's been staring at for the past couple of minutes.

It's been two days since the kiss. Both having a lunch date again, in Santana's office.

"I was thinking, we could go to a bar this weekend..." Quinn said.

"Sure." Brown eyes, once again day-dreamed of the kiss.

* * *

The bar.

"This is Sam...and that's Mercedes."

"Hi."

"She's prettier in person Q." Mercedes said, as all sat down in a small table away from the dance floor.

"Thanks." Santana smiled.

"We should, get some drinks." Quinn mention to Mercedes.

"We'll be back." She kissed Sam.

"So, how long have you been together?" Santana asked, as she kept her eyes on Quinn's ass.

"Two years, married three months."

"At least you're getting some." She sighed.

"I've been there, I took _way_ too many ice baths." Sam laughed.

"We've been going out for...two months, but we've known each other for four. And am fucking dying...we've kissed four fucking times."

Sam laughed so loud, people though he was crazy. At some point he was crying.

"Yeah, we didn't sleep together until our wedding night."

"Oh God." Suddenly Santana had a headache.

"Yup."

"What are you talking about?" Quinn sat their drinks down.

"You, of course." Santana placed her hand on Quinn's thigh. The blonde blushed.

Santana knew better than, to pressure her into something she didn't want to do. That's why both stopped talking in the first place. But Santana was now going to wait forever; that thought alone was hell.

_I am going to be best friends with my fucking hand, for a long time. God, my wrist is starting to hurt. I think, I'll need a cast at the end. Or bags of ice, a lot of ice. Fuck, what if she keeps me like this until we get married. I am not waiting for fucking Cinderella, to finally fuck her brains out. I need new porn. Like really dirty..._

"Wanna go dance?" Quinn asked after a couple of drinks.

Santana didn't realize, she'd been rambling in her head.

"Sure."

"Good luck!" Sam shouted, knowing how Quinn gets when she's tipsy.

"Why? Baby." Mercedes turned to him.

"You'll see."

Quinn got really handsy, moving her hands from Santana's neck; to her back, down to her ass. Never stopping her way towards her hips, up very closely to her breasts; back to her neck again. So slow and painful, for Santana. All Santana could do, was to hold on to Quinn's hip and lower back, after the second round from Quinn's hands; Santana had to get some air. So, she ran to the bathroom.

_Get it together. For god-sake, this is not high school. Don't c..._

Santana took a few deep breaths, splashed water on her face. Re-arrange her dress, looked in the mirror. And finally, when she was done...

"What are you doing?"

"Ah...I-"

"You ran away, are you ok?" Quinn got closer; Santana moved away from her. Knowing very well what Quinn does to her body.

"Yeah..."

Quinn looked in the mirror and pushed her dress up, by cupping her breasts.

_Don't jump her. Keep it in your pants._

Santana's toes curled; her head tilted, as she rolled her eyes. Her hands were fists. She was trying so hard, not to cum at the sight.

"You don't like my dancing?"

"What? No!"

_What else can your hands do? I mean fuck..._

"Then?" Quinn pushed together her breasts for reassurance.

Santana was sweating bullets, at this point. She was sure, that if she'd stayed; Santana was going to cu...

"I got a call...from work...am sorry, I have to go." She lied, well just a white lie. But that got her out of there.

"Ok, Call me." Quinn saw her leave.

That weekend, Santana didn't leave her room. At the end, she did need a cast. End product was; two broken finger nails, one head board scratched, and one fucked up wrist. All thanks to Quinn. But that wasn't enough, oh no. Any blonde that passed by, Santana thought of a way to fuck her, many different ways too. The wind was not cooling her down, no; that fucking wind made it worse. Skits were lifted, blouses tight to their breasts. Trying to stay abstinent was the fucking worse, her damn torture.

* * *

A week later.

Baseball game.

"The game doesn't start in another ten minutes, am going to grab somethings. Wanna come?" Santana asked. Holding hands with Quinn, this was now normal.

"If you're paying."

"You just want my money."

"You're not wrong." Hazel-green eyes had a spark.

Quinn let Santana drag her to the gift shop. Quinn could actually see herself doing this forever. Her stomach had a mind of its own; it felt full, and yet hot and cold. Fucking butterflies, had nothing on the feeling she had now.

"Can you do me a favor?" Santana asked Quinn. A good tactic to stop Quinn, from looking at the price.

"Sure."

"Can you get me a beer?"

"I thought,_ you_ were paying."

"Okay, gold-digger...take this." She handed a second credit card.

"For the record, I don't want a prenup."

Santana laughed, and rolled her pretty brown eyes.

"Alright, but I'll get custody of all the giraffes."

"Whatever." Green eyes rolled this time. Quinn walked away.

"Can you, customize the jersey's?" She asked the employee.

Back outside the shop, Quinn was waiting on her with two beers.

"Thanks, let's go sit down..."

Both headed down the rows, until they got to the second row. Very close to the team, Santana had a friend; who gave her tickets to a Yanke's game for exchange, of an Elton John concert.

"You better get me a ball." Quinn stated as they sat down.

"Why can't you get, _me_ a ball?"

"Because am the gold-digger, not you." She smiled at Santana.

"Well then princess, I better get something in return." She winked.

"Get me a ball, and I might..."

_Fucken tease. No, no, no. Not know._

The wind was her worse enemy, Quinn's dress was being lifted; showing her endless legs. Santana was starting to get a little too excited, her hands were sweating; and so was another part of her body. She couldn't look away when, the wind made Quinn shiver; and looking down her cleavage. Santana was losing it, and fast.

"I...gotta, go to the bathroom."

"Okay." Quinn didn't seem to get it.

Santana on the other hand, was fucking running to the bathroom. Once the friction of running was intense, she walked instead. I'd be weird if you got off in a public place. So, she turned to the bathroom.

A minute passed by, and so did five.

It was twenty minutes, when Quinn realize Santana haven't come...back.

"San?"

Santana stopped what she was doing.

_So close, so close._

"Yeah." She tried to sound normal.

"Are you ok?"

"Ah, yeah...just give me a second."

She couldn't stop now; she was so close. Santana bit her lip, and finally some release. It was a miracle she didn't make any noise.

"Why are you sweating?" Quinn asked as Santana came out of the stall.

"What?" She washed her hands.

"What happened?"

"Nothing, it's hot in here." _Nice save._

Santana seemed more relaxed, all that pressure was lifted. For a while. The blonde noticed the change in her face, but couldn't put it together. Once Santana was done, both walked back to their seats.

Holding hands as they walked out.

_That fucking wind again. Keep your eyes on the game, not her boobs._

"So?"

"Yeah." Brown eyes didn't want to look at her gorgeous eyes. She needed to think of something else.

"What did you get?"

"Oh, jersey's and caps." She got them out.

"Both say, Lopez."

"Of course, princess." Santana winked.

Santana had a better time now; the game was a good distraction. She smiled more; sipped her beer, she put on the cap and jersey. Danced in her seat, as some stupid song played.

"Homerun!" Santana shouted, and stood up. When Quinn did, her breasts bounced. She had a stupid grin on her face.

It was a good game. Until some asshole started talking to Quinn.

_Not today._

"Why don't you put your dick in your pants, and leave my girl alone."

"Your girl? You are not even, paying attention to her." Some guy said.

Fuck, she had forgotten about her blonde.

"Can you read, asshat...she's wearing my name on her jersey."

Quinn noticed the change again. She knew what was going on, more like a really good suspicion.

"I bet she likes dick..."

"Get the fuck up..." Santana stood up.

"What are you gonna do? Slap me?"

"I'll shove my foot up your ass..."

"Santana!" Quinn had enough, of her behavior.

"What? You're going to defend this asshole?"

"No! Am going home."

"Wait."

Quinn got up and left her seat; she got close to the entrance, when she heard Santana call her name again.

"Quinn!"

"What!?"

"Fuck, stop walking."

"I'm going home Santana; clearly you pay more attention, to the game than me!"

"God, damn it."

In the cab.

Both sat as much space between them as possible.

Quinn was beyond pissed. Things between them, were starting to be good; both were really doing this. Quinn stopped thinking, and letting go. She liked the way things were going, dates, flirting, and some kisses. But she wasn't ready to sleep with Santana just yet. No, Quinn was making Santana wait, until she knows that Santana was capable of having a serious relationship.

Quinn had talked to Mercedes that night at the bar. Mercedes told her, 'You need to make sure, that she's not sleeping with anybody else. If you want this to work girl; you need to test her fidelity. And am talking about sex; that way, when you wait and she's still there. You'll know, she's the one.'

Quinn was ready to jump in the sack, ever since the first date. But 'Cedes, had a point.

She was going to wait.

The cab stopped and Quinn stepped out.

"Goodnight Santana." She didn't wait for a response; she went inside her apartment.

And now she was dwelling.

_What if, she is sleeping with someone else. San's been acting weird. Oh. My. God! She's sleeping with Britt, I knew there was something. That fucking face she made towards Santana. I can't fucking believe this. That cheating piece of..._

Quinn had to know, she had to know if; Santana was cheating. So, she went to her apartment at ten a clock on a Sunday night.

* * *

Santana had blown it.

_She's just so hot._

Santana was convinced Quinn, would never call again. So, she got her emergency weed out. Only used it in times like these.

An hour later, there was a knock on the door.

"What is wrong with you?" Quinn came in

"What do you mean?" Santana didn't notice, the smile forming on her face.

Santana was so high, everything was slow-motion. _Gloria by Laura Branigan_, was playing on the background. Her head was still moving to the music, her eyes almost closed. And the smile still there.

"Are you sleeping with Britt?"

Santana stopped. Was Quinn asking if she's sleeping with Britt? But she was not paying attention.

_Fuck! I forgot how good this shit is._

"What!?" She tried to open her eyes. But failed.

"Are you?" Quinn was in the verge of crying, but she wasn't going to give in.

"No!"

"Don't lie to me Santana!"

"I...am not! Why are we fucking yelling!?" Clearly, she had forgotten the conversation already.

"Because you're cheating on me!"

Santana seemed a little taken back, she stopped to think.

Slap!

"What the fuck!" Santana held her cheek.

"You are! You're fucking her!"

"Am fucking who? You?" Again, forgot what was happening. "Because, you leave me high and wet!"

"Is that why, you are fucking her?"

Quinn was losing her shit. She waited too long, and now Santana was fucking some other blonde. _Thanks 'Cedes._

"Who? You?"

"No! Brittany!"

"Is she here?"

Slap!

Quinn wasn't going to leave until she said it.

"Why? So, you can fuck her in front of me?"

"Who?"

This was useless. Santana was never going to admit it.

Quinn sat on the couch, then she saw it.

"Are you high?"

"Are we?" Santana looked around, she tried to hold on to the lamp.

"Santana, do you smoke?"

"You see it too?" Santana looked, around almost worried.

Quinn realized this was useless.

_How can she manage to be an adorable dork, even high._

_Oh, my god. She came back to the game with a smile on her face. She was smoking at the game. _

It all made since to Quinn.

"Do you have a drug problem?"

Quinn couldn't be more wrong.

"What!? Just because am brown-"

"Shut up! And answer the question!"

"Well, what do you want me to do. Shut up, or answer the question?"

Green eyes rolled.

"Do you?" Quinn asked again.

"Do I want to do you, yes!"

Quinn wanted to laugh at this dork. But this was serious.

"Yeah, not happening like this."

"Oh, man...what are you doing here?" Santana sat beside her.

"I don't know anymore."

"Yeah...that's my shit!" Santana said as the song continued to play.

The same song was on repeat.

Quinn left Santana on the couch.

So, Quinn walked around the apartment. Well kept, clean, and homey. The scent was something tropical, but couldn't put her finger on it. Old records, a record player was in her leaving room. Photos of places she's been through the years; books scattered on the dining table. Posters, contracts, and an old camera were also on the table.

Quinn was falling and hard...


	15. From vomit to sleep.

Bam!

And just like that Quinn fell...on the floor. After looking around Santana's apartment, she missed a step.

_Fuck!_

"Who's that?"

"Me, you idiot!"

"What happened?"

"Oh, _I don't know_...I love the view from here."

"Me too," Santana smiled, and sat down beside her again. "You're so beautiful...I just want to hug you all the time, and smell your hair...not in a creepy way...is just, ever sense we've met; I can't stop listening to The Beatles...don't get me wrong I love them, I just didn't understand all the happy messages. Until that night, and now...am blowing it, and I know you'll leave by morning...and maybe this is the last time I'll see you. I just think you're so beautiful."

Quinn never saw this coming, sitting on the floor; Santana rambling about her, and how she feels. In Quinn's opinion, that was the most adorable ramble she's heard. Santana just seemed to have a certain way of talking, about her feelings. _When she's high._

"I can hear you thinking," Santana laid down on the floor. "Can you think, and put a new song for me?"

_What is it about you?_ Quinn thought.

"Okay..."

"I've just seen a face..."

"What?"

"It's the name of the song."

"Oh."

Santana got up and ran to the bathroom. She forgot to close the door, as she threw up. Quinn stood there not knowing what to do.

The song began.

Quinn listed, she finally understood what Santana was talking about. It's a lovely song, full of hopefulness, and happiness.

_Has Santana, really listed to this all this time._

Quinn was breathing heavy, her eyes had a spark, her lips found a smile, her heart was beating fast, she was falling...this time not to the floor.

The feeling of taking a whole bottle of Tequila, settled. She was drunk, on the feeling.

The song played for what seemed forever. Quinn didn't mind listening to this song all night, week, month, years, god all her life.

"I can't seem to stop listening to this song...it's almost as if they knew it'll happen...and every time I see you, it plays in my fucking head...and I hate when people play one song on repeat...now I just...can't seem to stop...and I don't think I ever will." Santana said, sitting on the bathroom floor.

Quinn never heard something, so cheese from Santana. But she didn't care, it was romantic. And nothing could ruin this moment.

_Except the smell of vomit, and weed._

But it was perfect.

Santana fell asleep, sitting against the wall. She looked ridiculous, and smelled like shit; but what she said, that was perfect. Quinn's heart kept beating fast, she stared at Santana. She smiled at how stupid she looked; hair all over her face, arms on each side of her.

The song played all night.

Quinn fell asleep on the couch, she left Santana on the bathroom floor.

* * *

The sun came through the window, the light hit Santana's face first.

_Why does it smell like shit?_

_Oh, god. That's me._

_Why is that song playing again?_

_Quinn?_

As she got up, Santana made sure not to wake her up; the sleeping beauty on her couch. She walked very carefully around her apartment, got clothes and showered.

"San?" Quinn heard the shower run.

Quinn noticed the song was not playing anymore.

_The place is clean, must have been San._

"San?"

No response.

Santana stood there without her towel. Her entire body wet. As she looked for the towel, wide green eyes were all over her body.

And Quinn stood there, involuntarily liking her lips and biting her bottom one. Both stood there for a very long, long time.

"Take a fucking photo, I'll last longer..."

"Sorry...I, heard the shower...and."

"You decide to burst through the door?"

"No, yes..."

Still standing there. Quinn eyed every inch of Santana's body; so, toned, killer legs. The outline of her six-pack, her breasts.

"Are you done, eye-fucking me?"

"Yes...no!"

"No? I'll give you another minute then..." She smiled. She was so proud. "Still got it."

Quinn snapped out of it and closed the door behind her. Suddenly Quinn forgot why she was here in the first place. Oh yeah, she came to figure out if Santana was cheating on her. And now the image of a very naked Santana, was clouting her mind.

Dripping water, moving south to areas where she wishes...

_Does legs, her flat stomach, strong arms, perfect curves, god does lips..._

Suddenly something else was wet...

Ten minutes later.

"Hungry?" Santana said as she walked out of the bathroom, dressed.

"Ah..."

"Come on, horndog..."

"Am sorry...I-"

"Stop, I don't care...you got to see the goods."

Quinn blushed; she couldn't look at Santana in the eye. She was being a school girl. Giggling, and hiding away.

"What happened last night...I remember holding a fucking lamp...vomiting, smoke, Britt, laying on the floor, and why does my cheek hurt?"

"That's all me."

"Damn, must have been a really good laid. Too bad I don't remember fucking you...shame."

"Santana!"

"What? Was I bad? Well if I was, let me make it up to you." Santana walked closer to Quinn.

"We didn't do it."

"Well, we could-"

"No!"

"Women." Brown eyes rolled, and walked away.

"I actually, came here for something."

"Me?" Santana raised her eyebrows.

"Yes...no!" Quinn was still in a daze.

"Care to explain, princess."

"Are you fucking Britt?"

Santana was confused.

"What?"

"Don't lie to me Santana!"

"No!"

Slap!

"What the fuck Quinn." Santana held her left cheek. Again.

"I know you are!"

"Are you insane? God, you're fucking crazy to even think I could do that...you know what? Get the fuck out...unbelievable...accusing me of cheating."

"We're not together!"

"Yeah, I guess you're right...get the fuck out Quinn." A caramel hand pointed to the front door.

"Fuck you!"

"You did that, already."

"Am not, Brittany."

"No, you're right. You are worse."

"Am glad, she destroyed you..."

Santana didn't reply.

Quinn walked to the door. But the feeling of guilt settled. She turned around.

"No...don't...just leave." Santana, knew that look too well.

Quinn heard a sigh. She felt like an ass, coming here and accusing Santana of cheating. All thanks to her fucking impulses. Nothing comes from being hot-headed.

So, she left.

Quinn went home crying her pretty eyes out. And that song, kept playing in her head. It was more of a curse now. Clearly learning part of the song, was a mistake. And now she hears, the sigh...that fucking sigh.

She told Rachel everything.

Rachel held her all night, she knew Quinn did the wrong move. Nothing good comes in the heat of the moment, specially exploding the way she did. Rachel knew better than to judge, but fuck...

_She really fucked this one up._

* * *

Three days later.

Santana's office.

There was a knock on the door.

"Not now."

"Truce lunch?" Quinn came inside the office, with a picnic basket.

"Not now, Quinn."

"Am just here to say so-"

"No, Quinn...you're not."

"I felt like an asshole...because I am one. I didn't mean-"

"You know what's funny?" She chuckled. "B, didn't fuck me up...I fucked her up...I broke her heart. And now I have to live, knowing that I let her go. Even if I hate Sonic on crack, I could never break her heart again...she doesn't deserve it Quinn. Am over her, but I don't think you are."

Déjà vu.

Quinn of course looked guilty, and stayed there.

To Quinn's surprise, Santana began to laugh. The blonde frowned, not knowing what was happening. Was it because she was still holding a picnic basket, in the middle of a fucking office?

"What's so funny?" Quinn wanted to laugh along; her infectious laugh, was heard all around the office.

"How many fucking times have we had this conversation?" Santana was in the verge of tears. "I mean fuck!"

Both began to laugh. Yeah, they sure as fuck keep doing the same. And it's let to nothing, just more arguments.

"Friends?"


	16. Buttercup.

"Are you going to get her?" Tina asked her friend.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that...she said she wanted to stay friends."

"Yeah, but look at you..." Tina handed a cup of coffee.

"Tina...it's complicated, you know...her past, her family..."

"Yeah, you told me...look I've known you from what? Senior year, of high school? But the way, your eyes light up...I might even say, you're in love."

"Love...my track record, says otherwise."

"And no one is judging you for your poor choices." Tina laughed along with her friend. "Give her a chance, she might be the one...are you really going, to let the love of your life go...just because she said she 'wanted to stay friends' come on."

"I just-"

"You, nothing...you are going to call, and ask her out. Man, the fuck up!"

"Ugh, is it possible to love you, and hate you at the same time."

"Tell that to your friend."

"Tina!"

So, she did. They talked on the phone for five minutes.

And both agreed to meet.

* * *

"Hey!"

"Hi!"

Both sat near a window of a coffee shop.

"I talked to a friend today..." Santana finally said.

"Me too."

"I got something to ask you."

"I got something too." Quinn said, as she settled on her seat.

"You go first..."

"No, you." Quinn insisted.

"Okay...how do you feel, of leaving New York for a weekend?" Santana asked.

"I was thinking, the same thing."

"Great." A smile appeared on Santana's cheeks.

"Where to?" Quinn asked.

"Come on, you know me...it's a surprise."

"Please tell me, it's not another strip club."

"I love where your mind is...but no. This one is special."

Quinn eyed her. Something was different and she knew it.

"Okay, stop talking about boobs; because am getting turned on." Santana said feeling a little uncomfortable.

"I didn't say anything, about boobs..."

"And now, am thinking about boobs." Santana day-dreamed.

Pinch.

"Ow! Sorry. It's been a long time since, I pet my cat."

"What!?" Quinn laughed so hard she forgot how to breath.

"Which is funny, because I got nothing down there...I just heard Britt say that, one day...I guess it got stuck."

They both laughed.

_God, that laugh._

Both stayed a while longer. Until they said goodbye.

* * *

Four days later.

Airport.

"Two tickets, to L.A. please." Santana eyed everywhere for Quinn. She was late.

"That's the first time, I heard you say please." Quinn?

"And it will be the last."

The blonde shook her head.

"Sorry I was late, but someone forgot we were flying tonight."

Santana showed her teeth with a fake smile.

"Thanks." Santana handed her credit card.

"Yeah, but in my defense; I told Rachel yesterday...to tell you."

"Since when, do you talk to Rachel?"

Santana got the tickets, and moved out of the line.

"Ah, since the bar." Another fake smile.

Slap!

"What?" _God, she's got a heavy hand._ She comforted her arm.

_Why am I always getting hit, or pinched?_

"You said, you would not go after my friends."

"I wasn't..."

"Wasn't?" Quinn came to a stop.

"Okay, am not...anymore." Santana flinched.

"What does that mean, Santana."

Gulp!

"Well..."

"Flight, 345 going to L.A. now boarding." Both heard a loud voice.

"That's us." She walked away...fast.

In the plane.

Santana was nervous, but no Quinn has nothing to do with it. Her hands were shaking; her eyes were shut, and her leg was bouncing.

"Relax, am not going to kill you." Quinn said, as she sat down.

"No, it's not you...I hate flying."

"You've been around the world, and you hate flying?"

"Yes, Doctor Phil...I fucking hate it." Brown eyes, looked out the small window.

Quinn found this adorable. A smile grew on her face.

"Stop smiling, it's not funny." Santana took a deep shaky breath.

"Poor, Sanny." Quinn made a mocking pout.

Chocolate eyes tried giving her a glare, but fail when Quinn smiled back.

Twenty minutes later.

Now in the air.

"I almost, shat myself."

Quinn turned her head, very slowly.

"What?"

"I said...I-" Santana stopped, when she saw a middle-aged bold man turn around in his seat.

"What did you say? I didn't hear you."

"I fucking hate you." Santana crossed her arms. Quinn chuckled to herself.

_Idiot._

"So, why do you talk to Rachel?"

"Actually, she talks to me...she's kind of annoying ya' know."

"Yeah, I know."

"Hi! Can I get you something to drink?" A flight attendant asked, ignoring Quinn.

"Ah, yeah...Bourbon." A voice close to the window spoke. "What? It calms me down."

Silence.

"Thanks." Santana got handed the drink.

"So, how long are you staying in L.A.?"

"_We're_, staying for two days." Quinn grabbed a tan hand, and squeezed it.

"Oh." She left.

Hands still holding, Quinn leaned in close to her ear.

"Do that again, and you'll end up in a body-bag." Quinn spoke with so much ease, and yet danger.

_Fuck!_

"What? The flight attendant, or gay-Barry?"

Quinn licked the shell of Santana's ear. "I'll customize, the body-bag."

"Fuck, Okay." A shiver, ran down her spine. Dangerously, and painfully slow.

Quinn will never know; just how much Santana likes when she's jealous. Who cares if she dies after, she'll for sure have a smile on her face. To Santana the most exiting part, is not knowing if she'll be super attentive, touchy, flashing eyes, or she'll kill a whole fucking town. There's just something about it...

_So, fucking hot!_

* * *

Lax.

Both got a cab.

Quinn of course was still annoyed at Santana, so she pushed her inside the cab.

"Fuck!"

"Move over!"

"I can't the buckle, is up my ass!"

"Move!"

"God, damn it!" Santana tried getting up.

* * *

Hotel.

"You couldn't get a room, with two beds?" Quinn asked.

"You know, I'd argue right now but my ass hurts." Santana started unpacking. "There's a fucking nerd-convention, be glad we got a room."

"Whatever." Hazel-green eyes rolled.

"Alright, I'll take the bed and you-"

"No!"

"Barbie, I paid for the room. I think, I should get the bed."

Five minutes later.

"This is bullshit." Santana said, laying on the couch.

"Mmm..." The blonde snuggled in bed.

"Fucking hate you." Santana whispered.

"I heard that!"

"Fucken blondes." Santana talked to the pillow.

"I can still hear you, asshole."

"At least, you got one!"

Quinn let out the loudest laugh.

"Yeah keep laughing..."

So, she did. For a while.

In the morning Santana was setting a meeting over the phone, while Quinn ordered room service.

"Alight, we'll leave in two hours blondie."

"Okay."

Two hours later

Santana's head was, buried in her hands.

"Q, can you hurry the fuck up! My tits are starting to fossilize."

"What?" Quinn laughed, through the bathroom mirror.

"By the time we get out of here, I'd go through menopause twice."

Quinn shook her head, as she walked out the bathroom.

_Child._

"Charming."

"You got no idea, princesa." She winked.

If Santana was playing the game, then so would Quinn.

"Well, you can't charm your way into my pants; to ever find out if am wearing anything underneath my dress."

Santana was so dumbfounded, that she stood there for a while.

"Oh, god." She bit her lip.

That's what Quinn was expecting. So, for now she was winning this stupid game.

"Are you coming?"

"Not yet." Santana looked down.

Green eyes rolled back in her head. Santana was such a child.

"Are you done?"

Once again Santana looked down.

"No, I usually go for a while."

Both walked out the room, and into the street. Once Santana rented a SUV, they made their way towards a record label.

* * *

In the SUV.

"So, why L.A.?"

"Busines and pleasure." Santana wiggled her eyebrows.

There was an icy glare, coming from the passenger seat.

"Come on Q, we're just friend...for now." She smiled looking ahead.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Keep driving before we drive, into a man-bun."

She made Santana laugh, and god she loved it. She felt alive, and lighter than a feather. Up until now.

Stuck in traffic.

"Look at them..." Santana motioned, to the three very attractive women. To her fucking luck, two blondes. And the other with killer legs. "This world is going to shit; I mean an inch less and I could see her-" The girls crossed the street; Santana on the other hand, her gaze followed them.

"Santana!" Clearly knowing what she was doing, she waited for her to stop looking at them. Yeah, that didn't happen.

"What look at them...I don't even dress that slutty."

Quinn gave her a look; Santana ignored her, still looking at their asses. So, un-bothered.

"Well, not anymore." The girls were out of sight. And Santana finally looked at her, she'd be dead if that glare could kill.

"Drive." Quinn finally said, with an icy tone.

Gulp.

Once both got to their destination, Santana walked hand in hand with Quinn. She didn't fight Santana, she loved how simple it was. Santana opened the door for her too; it looks so simple, but speaks volumes, to Quinn.

"You must be Shelby..."

Quinn heard Santana say, she verted her eyes towards a little blonde.

"Mommy!" Beth ran to Quinn for a hug.

"Hi, buttercup!" Quinn let go of Santana's hand.

Santana watched in awe, she was doing what her friend told her to do.

Quinn was in tears, it had been a while since she last saw her little buttercup. Six months, and she was growing fast. Beth was now six, but for Quinn; she was still a baby, in her eyes. And always will be, her baby.

"Hi little one, I heard so much about you..." Santana said, once the hug broke.

"Like, am adorable?" Beth smiled sweetly.

_Yeah, that's Quinn's child alright._ Santana chuckled.

"I heard you're a princess." Santana almost whispered. Motioning with her hand, as if it was a secret.

"I am." Beth smiled, that same smile Quinn has.

_'Thank you'_ Quinn mouths the words.

Santana nodded with a smile.

"Alright little princess, your other mommy and I will be right back. Okay?"

"Okay."

Shelby and Santana, left the lovely blondes alone in the lobby. Santana needed to meet a potential, new singer for the label. Shelby is a vocal coach. After Quinn mention her name, Santana was sure she heard of a Shelby Cordogan. After looking over some potential people, the name Shelby came up again. And as soon, as she was sure it was her. Santana dropped everything. Sure, this was a business trip. But knowing Quinn had a daughter, this trip became for her.

Santana will never tell her that of course.

But Quinn knew, the two brunettes walked twenty feet away from them; and met with a couple. Quinn had Beth on her lap, but she never stopped looking at her with a loving expression. Santana had a powerful stan, yet so elegant. She's never seen Santana in action.

It was so sexy.

Beth and Quinn played for what seemed forever. Until Shelby came back to tell them, it was going to take a little longer. All three walked to a sound-booth, where Santana was setting in front of a panel full of buttons, and lights. Without saying a word, Quinn stood at the door.

She watched as Santana, talked to the girl in the sound-booth.

"Alright, do you mind if you play another song?" She asked pressing a button. She's been hearing this girl for a while; she was almost sure to sign her to the label.

The girl was good, to say the least. Santana played with the board, moving, pressing buttons, and adjusting. Her hands moved with ease; her eyes scanning the board, and her leg kept a rhythm with the music.

She had to sign her.

There's the feeling again.

"That's great, thanks. I'll be in contact." Santana stood up, and took noticed of the blonde. "Hey, sorry I-"

"No, It's fine." Quinn smiled.

"Hungry?" Santana asked all of them.

"Yeah!" Little Beth yelled.

* * *

Back in the car.

"Where to ladies..." Santana said, once in the driver's seat. Quinn by her side. Shelby and Beth in the back.

"No, let me guess..." She eyed the back seat for Beth. "Pizza...no,"

Beth shook her head. "Mexican. No wait..."

Once again Beth shook her head, her blonde hair moving everywhere. "In and out." Beth smiled wildly to her, and nodded. Shelby had to bring Beth's cars eat with her, from her own car.

"How did you know?" Beth threw her little legs in the air.

"Had a hunch."

This was the moment Quinn realized, just how much of a lovable dork she really is. Was she...

"Hold on to your butts." Santana said, making Beth laugh. "Shelby, please tell me the little blonde has a good taste in music."

"What kind of mother would I be, if she didn't?"

Santana eyed Quinn, knowing exactly that she had no taste.

But Quinn was no hurt by the comment, she knew Shelby was her mother too. She was beyond happy; that Shelby let Beth know, about her being her mother.

Build me up buttercup by the foundations, played.

Santana, like the dork she is. Danced and sang in her seat; occasionally singing to Quinn, and going back to Beth. To her surprise, Beth knew the song. Both sang without a care of glances, and murmurs. Santana made so many motions with her hands, Quinn couldn't stop laughing at her.

_Two dorks. Two adorable dorks._

After their meals, they decided to go to a park. Beth went for the swings; while Santana and Shelby talked about work, Quinn helped Beth.

Quinn was finally living with her mistakes; and decision that got her here, in the first place. She finally felt tranquility with herself. It was something new. Quinn knew letting go of Beth; was the best, and worst diction she ever did. She learned to let go, a long time ago. But now, she accepted it. She had been caring this baggage for so long. She was afraid, she'd never let go. She was afraid, of seeing Beth again and all the guilt coming back to her. The main reason why she stopped visiting, her little girl.

Ring.

Quinn's phone rang.

"Hello?"

"So?"

"Tina."


	17. Almost.

"And that's when I knew..." Quinn looked into brown eyes. Santana's right arm, was around Quinn's waist. While Quinn's right hand moves, her hand up. That hand had been moving south, the entire story.

"So, who asked who first?" Her aunt asked.

"This beauty did..." Santana replied with a smile, as she kissed her blonde on the cheek.

Today was Judy's birthday party; and the couple were telling the story, of how they met to a few relatives.

Good thing, they went straight to the point.

"Did I miss something?" Quinn's grandma asked, as she sat down.

"Where were we, when you left?"

"Oh, sweetie...I think you two were eating pizza."

Santana smiled, god she missed the whole fucking thing.

"Summery...Quinnie here, rejected me not once, not twice but a billion times..."

"Well, Sanny here...stopped fighting for me." Quinn mocked.

"Okay, wait if I remember correctly...you said you weren't 'into that' how was I supposed to fight that..."

"You broke up with me...you definitely let go."

"Maybe that's what I wanted you to think..." Santana raised her eyebrows. "And maybe, that was the plan all along."

"No, it wasn't. You couldn't handle me..." The blonde chuckled.

"Think about it princesa, I let you think you made the first move." Smiling wildly, Santana winked.

"I totally, made the first move."

"Keep dreaming." Santana shook her head.

Both noticed everyone around them laughing, at the exchange. Everyone wanted to talk to them. Surrounded by old people, and the smell of butterscotch.

These two were the celebrities of the party. The interesting couple; everyone wants to be, and be friends with.

This whole fucking month, has been really slow if you asked Santana. Yes, they're finally dating. But she was losing her fucking mind; Quinn is so intoxicating, so sexy, and a fucking tease. No, they still haven't had sex. But Santana can finally kiss her; streets, bars, her apartment, against Quinn's door. In Rachel's room, of course she doesn't know. In cabs, baseball games, in the middle of Rachel's play.

And yet always high, and not so dry. The feeling of cherry chap stick, was always on Santana's lips.

But she never wore it.

After all this mess, Quinn still decided to wait. Call her a hopeless romantic, or call her an asshole just like Santana. After all, she was waiting for her princess charming. Even if Santana always called her sugar tits, but Quinn was willing to wait.

Santana's worst nightmare...

"No, way in hell..." Santana sipped her drink. Quinn is oblivious, she's talking to her grandma now.

Santana found her green eyes, and not the ones she loves. The one's she prayed to forget, at night. She hasn't thought about her in years, four to be exact. In a sea of people; how could they both be in the same state, town, damn it, party.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

Santana sipped on her drink; it was empty now. Goddamn it, she needed to be wasted right about now. She's now walking towards her.

"Frannie?" Quinn sees her, and hugs her.

Gulp.

_How do they know each other?_

Santana's blood is cold, and a very creepy chill runs down her spine.

_Do I run?_

_Should I punch her?_

_Sugar tits, what are you doing?_

"San, this is my sister..." Quinn's voice fades, and now Santana is in shock.

_No, no, no, no._

How the fuck is she going to tell Quinn, of all people; that she slept with her sister. Oh, god Russell is going to kill her with a collectable shotgun. Yeah, she saw it...it was being displayed, guessing it was for her to see. Thank god for old people, and the smell of death; that line moved quite fast.

"Hi." Santana finally spoke, Frannie extended her hand. The surprised expression, didn't go unnoticed by Quinn.

"Do you two, know each other?" Looking between them.

"Yes."

"No." Santana said.

Both spoke at the same time.

_Fuck._

Frannie- one.

Santana- zero.

"Santana, we're ready for you." One of the band's member, called for her.

"That's my Q." Santana winked. Yeah, that didn't work.

_Dumb-ass._

Since it's Judy's birthday, Santana brought a band to play at the event. Definitely trying to impress, Quinn's family. But to her fucking luck, Quinn was ready to shoot her. Hopefully the shotgun case is locked. She escaped fast enough, but not enough from an icy glare.

_Fuck._

Santana sang, hey Jude by the Beatles. That was her present to her, by the looks of it she loved it. Everyone sang along, even pissed off Quinn. God, did she look beautiful now. Blue dress, black high heels, all complemented the 'I'll murder you' look. It was truly breathtaking.

"Judy, if I didn't know you. I'd say you look twenty-five...happy birthday."

Everyone clapped. Frannie included.

Frannie- one.

Santana- one.

Getting off stage, her balance was a little off some blonde hugged her. The one she fucked twice; the one she wanted to fuck, or the one that sounded, like she wanted to fuck?

_Something needs to change._ Santana thought.

"Thank you!"

"Yeah..." Santana, very awkwardly hugged her. She saw Quinn at the corner of her eye.

_Does she have a gun?_

One and a half, bottles of wine later.

"So, she brings you home." Fuck.

"Frannie."

"Asshole." Frannie greets Santana.

"Ah, I missed that." Santana touched her chest.

"She'll kill you...you know."

"Yeah...Shotgun?" Santana frowns.

"Yeah."

"Fuck."

Both laugh.

"Let's hope, she shoots me in the back...my face is too pretty for closed casket."

"Oh, no I want to see the money shot." Frannie faced Santana.

"Wanky."

Now this felt bitter sweet, to Santana. As soon as Quinn finds out, she'll be out of here. She knows it, she feels it coming.

_The only thing coming tonight._ Santana chuckled.


	18. Already did.

6:45

After talking to Frannie, Santana walked to a table far way from the party. She watched as Quinn talked to her grandma. How the fuck, is she going to tell her...

_Hey, love the food. By the way, I fucked your sister...wanna dance?_

Santana had broken too many hearts, but breaking this one; would mean she has no heart. And for the past month, her heart has been more alive than before. Every time she locks eyes with hazel-green, everything around fades. It's like having vertigo, but in a good way. And the only thing she sees, is a beautiful blonde.

"Twenty-five, huh?" _Fuck._

"I, ah..." All her words seemed to fade.

"Do I need to keep you, away from Frannie?" Russell sat down, in front of her.

_Ah._

"Sir, it's not-"

"Sir?" A frown appeared.

_Fuck._

"Force of habit, my father was in the military." Santana tried to explained, it was becoming a habit. From being around Quinn all the time.

"huh." He had a blank expression.

_Is it always this awkward talking to him?_

Silence.

Gulp.

Santana wanted to evaporate into this air. Or for Quinn to finally kill her.

Russell's face seemed to change.

"So, what do you do Sandra?"

"Santana..." She quickly said.

"What do you do?" He asked again.

"Russell, leave the poor girl alone." Judy said sitting down beside him, soothing his arm.

Santana flashed a smile.

"What? Am not going to kill her...yet." Russell turned to Santana.

Gulp.

"Don't mind him, he just wants to scare you."

Santana smiled.

"So, tell me...are you going to marry her?"

"Well, we've been going out for three months..." She paused, but Russell's face seemed serious. "But...if she wants to get married-"

"Do you?" He frowned.

"When the time comes, yes."_ Fuck, that was smooth._

"See, now stop worrying...come on." Judy, dragged him to the dance floor.

_What the fuck._

She hasn't really thought about marriage. For the past couple of years, marriage seemed far away. And non-existent in her mind. But who knows, a little Sanny running around a backyard doesn't sound so mad. Or a little Q, painting...wait.

Santana sat there, with wide eyes. She just imagined, her life with Quinn.

A married life.

"Are you ok?"

"Ah..." All her words really faded away.

"Don't pay attention to him." Quinn's grandma said, as she sat down beside her. "Ever since, Lucy left...he has been trying to, make it up...but unfortunately, my son is very closed minded."

Santana sat there in aw, of this woman. How could she be so sweet, but her son be such an asshole.

"It's all his father." She stated.

Both laughed.

"When my late husband and I, moved here. There was a couple, that lived in our neighborhood. Lovely people, very quiet. Everyone thought, they were best friends. Both did everything together, never out of sight...no one seemed to notice, the secret glances, the sweet smiles. They were my only friends, and I can say; they were the happiest couple I've ever met...you two remind me of them." She finished with a smile.

"I want that." Santana said with a smile on her lips.

"You already do, dear."

Santana felt...

6:45

"How are the paintings, coming alone?" Quinn asked.

"Oh sweetie, I can't get the paint off my hands."

Quinn chucked; she missed this woman. She was her hero, always has been. The woman introduced her to books, paintings, movies. And maybe Quinn was out of her time too.

Lucy would spend every waking moment with her. How could she not, when everyone around her ignored her. Her grandma, has always seen her for who she truly is. But when her father send her to a nursing home, Lucy began to disappear.

"Well, I'll still skype every day."

"I'll be waiting sweetie." She smiled.

"Has dad, gone to see you?"

"No, am sure-"

"He's not busy, grandma..."

"Judy goes, every day..."

"Really?"

"How do you explain, my missing pills."

"That's mom."

Both laughed.

"I missed you."

"Me too, sweetie."

As Quinn turned to her right, she saw Santana talking to her dad. God, she looks scared shitless. Quinn laughed at the scene, happening far away from all the people.

But she smiled non-the-less.

"I know, that look."

Quinn turned to her with a frown.

"You can't fool me, dear...I raised you."

"Is it that bad?" Quinn smiled.

"Really bad."

Chuckles were heard, from that table. Until...

"You just love my sloppy seconds, don't you?"

"Funny, how she didn't mention you."

"Please." Frannie rolled her eyes.

Mrs. Fabray walked away. She has seen, how these two argue. She's too old to stay and listen, to them. Years of experience.

"Thanks." Quinn glared at Frannie.

"Did you hear? I'll take over the firm, when dad retires."

"And I give a shit, because..."

"Because, you'll never be number one."

It started as a chuckle, it end it up as a huge laugh.

"Oh frannie, look at you-"

"What?"

"You still think, I'll out shine you...let me tell you something, I already did." And just like that Quinn got up and left.

She felt so fucking alive.

7:15

Walking around the well-kept garden, Santana held on to a bottle of wine. Curtesy of the bartender, and a fifty-dollar bill.

Santana was dwelling again. What the fuck, is Quinn going to do when she finds out. Slap her, kick her, shoot her. Or all the above. Her stomach flipped for the fourth time.

_Definitely not good._

Slap!

And there it is, Santana held her cheek. There's only one who can hit that hard. Quinn. At the corner of her eye, she saw a bench.

Sigh.

"I was twenty-two, and-" Santana started explaining, as she walked to the bench.

"Stop."

Santana frowned, at the beautiful blonde.

"I don't want to know...but am fucking mad."

"Am sorry."

There was a moment of silence, as both sat on the bench.

"Do you want, to be with her?" Quinn sounded broken.

"Hey, hey..." Santana wrapped her arms around her. "Never, okay...that bitch is crazy. Crazier than you..."

A sad laugh was heard from Santana's chest.

"Q, I didn't just come here...talk to your dad, about how serious this is. To just turn around and leave...baby, we didn't just go through months of figuring things out; to just to break up, because of a crazy bitch."

Quinn had to admit; she was right.

"She's my sister, you asshole...but you're right, she is a bitch."

Both laughed.

"But I'll kill both of you, if-"

"I know, I saw that look..."

"Shup up!" Quinn hit her chest.

Santana pulled back just enough, to capture her beautiful features. Red eyes, rosy cheeks and pick lips she looked beautiful.

_How could she be so perfect?_

"You're so beautiful, Quinn."

"I know." She smiled.

"Don't get too cocky, you might leave me."

"Oh, I might."

Without missing a beat. Santana kissed those pink lips, god she was falling in love with her. Kissing does lips, felt like flying but she could fall any minute. As she cupped a rosy cheek, Quinn slipped her tongue in. Santana could never get tired of that taste, that made her so addicting.

"Wait." Santana moved back a little.

Gulp.

"What's wrong?"

Gulp.

Santana looked down, and back at Quinn.

"Are you serious?"

"This is all your fault..." Santana had, to put her knees together. "You know, you should be flattered."

"What, that you're horny?"

"Yes! That you work me up, so fucking fast I almost cam-"

"Quinn?" Judy appeared out of nowhere.

Santana sat there, holding her knees together.

Quinn sat there with a blank face. And rosy cheeks.

Judy stood there with a frown. Confused out of her mind.

Gulp.

No one knew, who that was.

Quinn was beet red.

Judy was assuming the worse, as Santana looked at Quinn's cleavage.

Thank god, for good first impressions.


	19. Her.

"...and Santana, you'll sleep on the couch." Russell explained, the sleeping arrangements.

"Now I feel like the help..." Santana said under her breath.

And just as expected, Quinn elbowed her side.

"No, funny business in my house." Russell looked straight at Santana.

_Alright, fuck._

He had definitely heard about, the awkward encounter; earlier that night.

"Goodnight, San."

To Santana this felt like a scene in the fucking matrix; Quinn went straight for a kiss, Frannie made one of does faces that appear on a diarrhea commercial, Judy shook her head, and Russell had the same icy glare Quinn uses when she's mad.

Gulp.

The kiss landed on her cheek.

Hazel eyes rolled.

_Dork._

"Goodnight, beautiful."

Someday she'll disappear, and the main suspects would be in this room.

Two in the morning.

Santana couldn't sleep, stupid fucking couch was so uncomfortable. She was sure something was poking her ass. Santana tossed and turned.

So, she walked around the living room. Photos of the perfect family displayed round, the pretensions home. And just like expected, Quinn wasn't in any of them. God, this made her blood boil in fury.

She walked to a hallway, leading to the back yard. Photos of Frannie all around, trophies, ribbons. _Fucking materialistic assholes._

And there she was, just as beautiful as ever.

Lucy.

Santana smiled, that's her girl. God, she was still beautiful. She almost wanted to steal her photo. But it would be obvious, the brown one did it. She could hear Russell, in her head.

"You know, she was a bitch back in high school..."

"Look, who's talking."

Frannie eyed the photo.

"I made her."

"And look, how that turned out." She was bitter.

"It was supposed to be me."

"What?"

"The one, who brought you home..."

"Frannie..." Santana shook her head.

But Frannie was gone.

_What the fuck._

This was not supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to sleep with Frannie. Santana wasn't supposed, to fall for Quinn. But here she is, hopelessly in love with her.

What happened with Frannie, was a fucking mistake. And now it looks like, it has come and bite her on the ass. Santana understands why frannie is mad, but fuck it was four years ago.

_Four fucking years ago._

And somehow Frannie wants something with her; whether is getting her back, or destroy her. Santana will never know. Whatever it may be, she doesn't want to be near her.

_Crazy bitch._

She could never forget Quinn crying her pretty little eyes out, in the park telling her about Frannie. And how much of an asshole, she was to her.

How could Frannie be proud of destroying someone. Lucy of all people.

_Fuck her._

And there it was, her childhood. Hidden, barely there. She walked outside, and looked up.

A tree house.

_I have to._

She did. The tree house was old as fuck, but somehow made it up there. The small walls had posters of Justin Timberlake.

_Of course._

A small window placed at the side, was open. The night sky, bright as ever. Sure, Lima sucked but these stars, felt like home. Santana breathed in the fresh air, this felt peaceful. Knowing the girl of her dreams, is finally with hers'. And so close to fucking...

"Santana?" Quinn?

"Fuck!"

As Santana turned around, one of the old ass planks broke. And so, her left leg went; none like her. Straight through.

Quinn in shock stood in place.

"Thanks, for the help." Santana said, after a while.

Quinn snapped out of it. She tried pulling Santana up, that only made it worse. The plank cut even deeper.

"What were, you doing up here?"

"Getting my fucking leg stuck, apparently."

It only took, forty minutes, three people, and an annoying laugh from Quinn. Blood, was starting to pool around her thigh.

"Why are you laughing?"

"You were, basically doing a split..."

"Help me!" Santana shouted once on her feet.

Still laughing Quinn helped her waist, leading her inside. But once Santana got back in the house, her leg was began bleeding badly. And her thigh still had pieces of the old plank.

"Take her upstairs to the bathroom, and I'll get some gauze..." Quinn said to Frannie.

_Fucking great._

Once sitting on the toilet, Santana was fucking dizzy. Frannie kneeled down close to her, her hand sitting on her thigh. She helped Santana out of her pajama pants.

"You're so smooth." She licked her lips.

Wanting to reply, Santana made the mistake of looking down. The blood scared the shit out of her. Suddenly, feeling like passing out. Frannie kept moving her hands closer to her...

"Frannie..."

_Thank god._

Frannie left, before being caught.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" Judy asked, once inside the bathroom.

"Considering, I did a split for forty-five minutes, my girlfriend laughing at me, and destroyed my favorite pj pants, yeah am fine."

"Don't forget, your leg."

"I think, I left my fucking leg in the tree house."

Judy laughed.

"San!"

"Sorry Q, you can't rub-"

"Santana!" Judy looked at her.

"Sorry, all my blood is either gone, or going south."

"Dear god..." Judy walked out. Yep, she learned that Santana has no filter.

"Quinn..."

Santana passed out, in Quinn's arms. The next thing that Santana, remembered were white lights. And a few blondes by her side, was that a nightmare...

* * *

"Hey..."

With a frown on her face, and a shake of her head. Santana opened her eyes, only to see beauty staring at her. A very exhausted Quinn smiled back.

"You're blinding me..."

"Let me, close-"

"Your smile." Santana smiled.

"Smooth..."

Wiggling her eyebrows, she said. "I bet you are..."

"Still horny?"

"Have you seen yourself...if am not horny all the time, there's something wrong with me...in that case, shoot me in the head."

Quinn laughed, as she shook her head.

"We can go home, if you're ready...the doctor-"

"Mmm." Santana tried getting up.

"Come on, horndog."

"Next time, you'll be the one who can't move her legs." Santana finally got up.

She changed, and walked out her room with Quinn by her side.

"Walk faster, old lady." Quinn held her waist.

"Fuck you!"

"Not yet."

"Fucking tease." Santana said, under her breath.

"Do you need to change again?" Quinn mocked.

"Shut up." Santana Squinted her eyes.

* * *

Fabray house.

"Can you walk?"

"I'll fucking dance for you."

"Am going to take a shower." Quinn stepped out the car, as she shook her head.

"I can help-"

"Funny..."

"Always." Santana winked.

As Quinn walked inside the house, Santana was left behind.

"Fuck."

There was Frannie sitting on the steps.

"I know, I remember."

A breathy laugh left her mouth.

_This could only go so well._

"I thought, she pushed you...when you go stuck."

"Am sure, she wanted too." Santana very carefully sat beside her.

"I would have thrown you..." Frannie smiled, as she pushed her shoulder with hers.

"Am sorry..." Came out of Santana's mouth, before she could even process the words.

"For what? Leaving, not calling, or fucking my sister?"

"Ah...all of the above."

Frannie laughed bitterly.

"I was twenty-two. Frannie, no one wants to settle down at fucking twenty-two. I never meant-"

"It's all in the past...we can't change it." Frannie touched her arm.

"Just know, am really sorry...but that's the pills talking."

"I figured."

With that Santana left, she was too tired to figure out what just happened. Is it still a secret, or does she want to start again. Clean slate...as Santana came closer to the couch, she cringed. There was no fucking way; she'd sleep on the couch.

_Quinn's room it is._

Light pink walls, the smell of cherry in the air, stuffed animals on the bed. She smiled at how girly it all seemed. But as welcoming, and adorable it all was; Santana wondered, how many lonely nights Quinn had. And how many people inside this house, fucked her over.

"San?" Quinn walked out of the bathroom, drying her hair.

"Sorry, I couldn't sleep on the couch."

"Sounds like an excuse."

"Yeah, Q. I lose a fucking leg, to sleep with you...it's been my fantasy for months."

"I wouldn't be surprised."

"Well, I won't try anything..." A yawn, was heard from Santana.

"You say that now-"

"You don't trust me?"

"No." With raised eyebrows, Quinn continued drying her hair.

"Best girlfriend ever."

Green eyes rolled, as Santana slipped into bed.

"Are you coming?"

"You're not that good." Quinn walked to her bed.

"Wanna find out?"

"What happed, to not trying anything?" She slipped into bed, close to Santana.

"I can make an exception."

Quinn's bed seemed smaller, at this point. Both facing each other, with bags under their eyes. As the silence took over, their lips grew into smiles. Quinn was sure...

"My feet are cold."

So, she made the move.

Without a word Santana cuddled her.

"Better?" She asked behind her shoulder. The fresh smell of her shampoo, invading her nose.

The hot breath, suddenly made her shiver.

Quinn move impossible closer to her; involuntarily Santana's arm brought her closer.

"Yes."

Santana's eyes rolled; her mind clouded from all things she could do. Her breath shaky as Quinn settled closer to her front. And a moan was forming in the back of her throat.

_This is not fair._

Santana contained herself.

Quinn found this infuriating. Why was Santana not making a move? So, she let out a moan.

"What are you doing to me?" A husky voice, said right behind her ear.

"Nothing." An innocent, and yet evil voice was heard.

"Doesn't feel like it." Her voice was hushed from the blonde hair covering Quinn's shoulder.

"You mean this."

Quinn rolled her hips.

Three fucking months, was an eternity for Santana. No amount of dirty porn, would ever prepper her for Quinn. It'd be fucking embarrassing if she came in five seconds, but the way does hips moved; Santana was already on edge.

Whatever came to Quinn, it was like a great torture.

Santana wasn't tired anymore, but she wasn't going to jump her. And if she did, it wouldn't last long. Trying to formulate a plan in her head, it all lead to the same ending; nothing she could ever do, wasn't going to stop her early...

"You'll be the death of me."

"What are you going-"

"This."

Santana rolled Quinn's body to her. Wasting no time, she crashed her lips. It was nothing more than hungry, and needy. This action awarded Santana, with the sexiest moan.

Her left hand came to rest on Quinn's perfect ass; as her hands traveled to dark hair.

"Mmm." Santana heard.

This only encouraged her more. With a handful of her ass, she squeezed gently.

Throwing her head back, Santana was granted her neck. As an instinct, her lips kissed every possible surface. Finally finding the right spot, just below her right ear.

"Fuck."

Bringing her right leg over her hip. Quinn was now on top; breaking the kiss, she arched her back.

"That's a view."

Teeth bit down on pink lips, as Santana spoke.

Tan hands came to rest on her hips.

"You should see it from here."

_Damn, is there something she can't do._ Santana thought.

"Too much talking, not enough naked..." Santana's hands moved painfully slow going up, and taking the fabric of her shirt with them.

Just as she was getting closer to the destination, two soft hands stopped her.

"Not so fast."

You have no idea, blondie.

A devilish smile grew on Santana's face; Quinn was playing with fire.

"Show me."

Without hesitation Quinn took a hold of her hands, and guided them back to her lower back. Bringing Santana's body to her chest; face to face.

Lips crashed again, hands touched soft skin, moans became louder. Quinn's hands desperately tugging on Santana's shirt; with a soft chuckle from her, the shirt came off. Green eyes loved the sight in front of them.

"Fuck." The blonde spoke.

Not wanting to wait any longer, Santana took Quinn's shirt rather quickly.

"Fuck baby-"

"You talk too much."

Soft hands pushed on caramel shoulders. As her head made contact with the pillow, a surprised expression appeared.

_The confidence of this woman..._

Quinn was driving her crazy, with every gaze, touch, kiss. Santana could not stand it; she was ready to...

So, for once Quinn was going to take control. Very carefully and slowly; she took off her pants and underwear, not leaving her place on top of her. As she did so, brown eyes followed her every move.

The beauty and confidence that this blonde has, is beyond anything Santana had ever imagined. It felt like being cast by a spell; she couldn't move, even if she wanted to.

Quinn's knees had a mind of their own, both moved up.

_Is this really happening?_

Santana massaged the thighs coming her way. Fuck, was she losing her mind at the sight.

_Fuck._

Was it possible for Santana, to lose her fucking mind for this blonde; she is at her mercy. Whatever spell, or curse she's cast there is no coming back now. This was the moment she knew...

Her knees came to a stop, her hands found the headboard, and her mind on the girl beneath her. Quinn had no idea where that determination came from, but Santana didn't seem to mind. So, she played along. Maybe this was, what she was meant to be doing all these months. Somehow that time was wasted, on figuring out their attraction towards one another; instead of figuring out, the size of their beds.

My god, was she captivating. Does hazel-green eyes, held the most beautiful gaze. Lips touched her mid-thigh, liking her way up she came to stop.

There was a grunt.

"Not so fast." Santana looked up.

_Fuck what a view._

"Stop-"

The blonde stopped talking when, lips connected to her.

It started with a kiss, a kiss became a few licks, and a few licks became swirls. Involuntarily her hips started rocking back and forth. Her hands were fists, and as Santana progressed; her nails were digging into the headboard.

Santana's hands grabbed a hold of her hips, to keep her in place. When does hips were incontrollable, she didn't bother moving north. Her fingertips touching, her girlfriend's flat stomach, and finally her breasts. She decided this wasn't enough, her tongue went...

"Oh. God."

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

The headboard was the only thing being heard, at this point. Quinn's hips guiding her whole-body now.

Quinn was close, oh so close.

Santana's head was trapped, by the most beautiful thighs. Her hands came back to Quinn's ass. Applying more pressure.

By the time Quinn started bucking her hips, without a rhythm; Santana knew she was close, so she stopped her movements.

"What are you-"

Moving from underneath her.

"This."

Santana placed herself behind her, holding Quinn's left hand in place, on the headboard. Her other hand traveled to where it was most needed. Her mouth on her right shoulder, lightly biting and soon making its way to her neck.

Quinn's body was not in control, her head thrown back as Santana's hand worked her up again. Her left hand was not keeping her upright anymore, the body against her back was. Her legs began shaking, her neck was being kissed, her right arm grabbed a hold of Santana's head keeping her on her neck.

"Aahh."

Her body lost all control, she ever started with. Santana's hand never stopped moving, she kept her pace. Allowing Quinn to ride it out.

A light layer of sweat, a body against her, her neck being sucked, and Santana's hand between her legs was magic.

As she continued feeling every wave, a much-needed kiss captured her lips. It was almost too much, she was a panting mess.

The hand movements slowed down, but never stopped. In the contrary, that hand worked her up once again.

"San, I don't think-"

Quinn was cut off by a per of lips on her.

Santana's hand was now making new patterns, she never knew existed.

"Trust me, you can."

That's all it took for Quinn, to leave the headboard and hold herself with Santana's hand. The mischievous hand holding her, began squeezing her right breast. As she continued kissing the perfect spot behind her ear, making Quinn take a shaky breath.

Blonde hair cascaded down Santana's lift shoulder, as she threw her head back. Eyes shut, holding a handful of dark hair, Quinn let out another moan.

That second orgasm hit harder than the first, and soon she was moaning once again.

"San!" She shouted.

Holding her upright, Santana had a smile on her face. And yet again, she allowed Quinn to ride it out as long as possible. The banging of the head board, had slowed down and was now barely heard.

As soon as Quinn came down...

"Remind me, to sound proof my apartment."

With that Santana kissed her shoulder, up to her ear again.

"Mmm."


	20. Running for love.

Rain...white tiles.

_What the fuck?_

Santana woke up, with a blonde in between her legs.

In the shower.

_Wait..._

_Fuck, it feels good._

_When the fuck did, I get here?_

"Q?"

"Hmm."

Hazel green eyes looked up.

"Fuck, I wanna wake up like this every day."

Brown eyes rolled back, as Quinn continued. When the fuck did, she get here, honestly who cares. This must be heaven.

Caramel hands found, the back of the blonde head. Santana moved back, leaning her back to the white tiles in the bathroom. Giving Quinn more access.

Her body began shaking, her sight on the blonde below her was more than enough to...

"Fuck!"

Was only head.

An uncontrollable body after, and a blonde was holding her in place.

"You okay?"

"Come here..."

Santana helped Quinn up, not wasting a second more she kissed does pink lips. And soon, all around her face.

"God, I..."

"I know..." Quinn cut her off.

Santana was sure, she's ready to say it. But Quinn seemed oblivious to her words. Maybe this is not the time to tell her. Especially not after this.

"How long were you, on your knees?"

With a chuckle Quinn replied. "A fucking while..."

"Am sorry."

"No, you're not."

"No, am not."

Both laughed, as they held each other. Water falling between their bodies, the taste of herself on does lips she loved to much.

Fuck, it really took so long to get here.

"Good morning, beautiful." Santana said, as she wrapped her arms around her small body.

"Morning."

Comfortable silence.

Sweet glances.

"I bet, you never been wetter."

With a shake of her head, and an eye roll Santana replied. "Shut up."

Another set of laughter was heard.

And a cold stream of water later.

"Shit, it's getting cold..."

"Let me turn it." Quinn went to reach it.

The water started, and as it did; the stream became hot, so fast. Quinn jumped backwards, trying to avoid what felt like lava.

"Ah...fuck!" Santana said, already on the floor.

Her right arm, holding her upper body; while her other half, was still hanging of the bathtub. Quinn made no attempted, to help her up. She just watched, and laughed; as Santana struggled on the floor.

"Thanks, babe."

"Am sorry."

"No, you're not."

"No, am not." Quinn repeat it.

"Best shower, ever."

* * *

Both agreed to spend time with, Quinn's family...

The Lima country club.

"What are we doing here?" Santana asked, as she opened her eyes from her nap. God, Santana was so drained. From the pills, and well that morning.

_She's so cute._

Santana rubbed her eyes.

"I just need, to get you out..."

"Wanky."

"Get out of the car."

"Ugh...now I definitely feel like the help; a white girl, ordering me around." She said, as she closed the door behind her. "Kind of like it..."

The Fabray's decided to play tennis. And thanks to Frannie, her leg was bleeding again.

_She's got a good fucking aim._

Frannie kept aiming at Santana's thigh. But no one seemed to noticed; Frannie continued saying, she was out of practice. Yeah, out of practice of hitting Santana. At one point, Frannie let go of her rachet. Hitting right in the perfect spot.

Yeah, I wounded leg; definitely worked in favor of the other team. So, Santana had to stand down...for a drink.

Frannie- two

Santana- one

Fucken crazy bitch.

At One in the afternoon, Santana headed for the bar.

"Something gay, and fruity." She tells the bartender.

"It's a little too early, don't you think?" Judy says, as she sits down.

"It's five-a clock, somewhere."

"In that case..." She turns to the bartender, after he sets a pina colada for Santana. "Dry martini, two olives."

"I guess, you weren't fucking around." Santana sips her drink.

"Talking about fucking around, don't do that to Quinn."

With a frown Santana replies. "That's the last thing, I want to do."

"Didn't sound like it, this morning."

"Fuck." She was blushing now.

"Walls are thin, Santana."

"Let me just, go jump off a cliff." Santana makes on attempted to get up, from the stool.

Laughing this time, Judy grabs her arm.

"Don't break her heart...god, knows she's still picking up the pieces."

Sigh.

"I know...I lov-"

Judy looked at her, with a sweet smile.

"Hey there, screamer." Quinn kissed her burning cheek.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you."

"Okay, I don't want to talk about sex right now."

"Well, there's a surprise..." Quinn said, putting her arm around Santana's neck.

"I better go, find Russell...and tell him to not talk, to you both." With that she left.

Watching Judy leave, Santana pulled Quinn on her lap. Almost falling over. The smooth gesture, made both smile.

"Quinn?" Some tallish, man-child came closer to the couple.

"Finn?"

"Yeah, hi!" He hugged Quinn.

Clearing her throat, Quinn got off her lap.

"Finn, this is Santana...Santana, this is Finn."

"Future husband." The Teletubby spoke.

With a soft chuckle she spoke. "Girlfriend."

Gulp.

Quinn with wide eyes, stayed back.

_Shit._

"I...sorry."

"Am not." Santana winked at Quinn.

"So, what brings you here?" Feeling like a school girl, Quinn smiled.

"Ah, I heard you were back...and-"

"Though you, could get her back." Santana finished for him.

Getting a little turned on, just by the way Santana seemed jealous; she never like possessive people.

But she loved the attention; and as a hopeless romantic, she loved being fought for.

She waited for Finn, to say something. He looked like a fish, out of water. Laughing nervously, Quinn smiled. Santana was right, he was back for her.

_But the hell, he will._

"I certainly didn't think; you'd date a girl."

_The fucking nerve._

_Fuck._ Quinn thought.

"Me either." She spoke, and sat on her girlfriend's lap again.

To say the least, Santana was pissed. And yeah, fucking jealous. So, Quinn looked at her; for reassurance, that she would never cheat on her. Well, not cheat again. She smiled sweetly, to calm Santana down. It was working until...

"Can't blame me...she's the one, that got away." The troll said, looking straight at Quinn.

"huh." Was all Santana said.

"Don't." Quinn whispered in her ear. She knew that look, too well by now.

Even if she loved all this, she didn't want to be kicked out; of a fucking country club.

The grip on Quinn's waist got tighter. Her jaw, clenched. The glare could kill, this big bugger.

"So, you'd break up a couple; to get what you want?"

_Shit._

"She, certainly didn't care in high school."

Santana's hands became fists, no one was going to talk; to her girl like that. Specially Frankenstein's monster. She was losing it.

"Fuck you!" Quinn got up, and walked away.

"Great job, at this pace...you'll get her in no time." Santana left, to find her blonde.

Thirty-five minutes later.

Close to a lake.

"Q!" Santana had finally found her. "Goddamn, can you run...blondie."

Sigh.

"Hey, come on...he was being an asshole; you can't let some words, defined you." Still breathing heavy, Santana came to stop.

"I know..."

"You don't have to explain...it's all in the past, baby."

Sigh.

Quinn wanted to melt, into the lake.

Santana comforted her, as they walked around the lake.

"I know, but I want to..."

Santana nodded.

"We dated, I cheated on him with Puck. Not my proudest moment...and after a while, we got together again. But the problem was, that he wanted to go to the army; and well I was going to Yale..."

A soft laugh, made Quinn turn her gaze to her.

"I...I wish, we could of ran into each other."

"Me too." A smiled reached her eyes.

There was a spark in her eyes, a loving and tender gaze.

"God, I love you." Santana said, memorizing her features.

The blonde was shocked, she had stopped walking. Her mind was blank, did she hear that right. Or was it her imagination...

"You don't have to say anything..."

Something came over to her, and somehow her legs started moving. She didn't know, if she wasn't ready; or scared to feel the same. She dreamed of this moment before; the right person, saying I love you. She dreamed of saying it back, and jumping on the person's arms. And being spend around...it would have been, the second happiest day of her life; after her wedding day.

And now she was the one, running away...away from the only person, that lately made her so happy. When her legs stopped, so did her heart. She knew, Santana was the one. But it scared the living shit out of her; that Santana would one day, fix her. And the next destroy her.

After a while of crying, and dwelling. She had to go home, she figured Santana got a ride home with her parents.

* * *

Home.

"San!?" She shouted.

"She's packing..." Judy said from the kitchen.

Quinn ran up the stairs. Not waiting anymore.

"San..."

A sad smile, filled Santana's face.

_Am such an asshole._

"What are you doing?"

"Am going back to New York."

"Why?"

"I'd love to answer, all your questions. But I have to go..." Santana couldn't bring herself to look at her.

Santana can't blame Quinn for not saying it back.

_She's not ready._

"Don't..."

"I have meetings, and-"

"I'm sorry, I ran..."

"No, I...I got carried away..." Santana finished packing, and held her belongings.

"Please stay." With puffy eyes, she plead.

"I can't." Trying to walk past her, Quinn held her arm. "You don't look so good..." Santana walked out her room.

Quinn was so confused.

_What the Fuck?_

Quinn walked out, and found Santana already in the back seat of a cab.

The cab began to move.

"You know she's giving you an out, right..." Frannie said behind her.

"Why?"

"Oh, Quinnie...you, obvious child."

* * *

Airport.

Santana walked alone. She's not mad, and she shouldn't be. It's not her fault.

_She's just not ready._ She kept telling herself that.

Santana was hoping for a different reaction, and maybe it was too soon. But she couldn't hold it any longer. She left like this, for months now; all the dates, kisses, loving glares, hand holds, sundresses, stupid comments, meaning-less conversation, lunch dates at her office, music, every slap, pinch, every second.

This doesn't mean, they're broken up; it just means, they're broken.

Now, well now; she's vulnerable, exposed. She let herself believe in happy endings. There is nothing scarier than this...she knows Quinn, needs time. But how fucking much, can Santana take. But maybe Quinn, would never feel like this...she'd be waiting in vain. She'd be waiting on, Finn to take her.

She was dwelling.

Santana needed to be home, but how...when her home is her, blonde. Somehow, she felt home-sick. Maybe it's best if she stays away, from Quinn. Both knew it'd end up, in a heart break.

Santana walked past security.

Suddenly, this didn't feel like a silly little date.

This felt like a heart break. It felt empty, without her.

She'd have to forget about love, altogether now.

_The jazz club_. Came the memory, so fast before her eyes. That she almost missed it. At that time, she reminded herself; that one day, she'll miss her. And now, well...now, she'd living it. And it hurt more, than she could have imagined.

_Fucking blondes._

"You can't just...say that, and...and walk out." She sounded out of breath.

Santana chuckled, as she turned to the voice.

"I think, I did."

"I don't get it..." She walked closer; she was barefoot holding her shoes in her right hand.

"For being a writer, you suck at paying attention."

"Fuck you!" People stared.

"Quinn, I gotta go..." Santana turned away from, the blonde.

"You've ran enough in your life..."

"So, romantic..."

"Said the one running away."

"What do you want, from me Quinn..."

Silence.

"Listen I get it, you don't-"

Quinn couldn't wait any more. She needed to say it...

"I love you, you asshole..."

"Now that's romantic..." Santana smiled.

It felt like the airport stopped; the people, the sound. It was like a shitty, romantic comedy. The one's she hated; or the ones, she had to get used to. Quinn still had puffy eyes, but she was beautiful none the less. Blonde hair was tangled, pale skin had a coat of light sweat, but she was beautiful.

The pretty woman, jumped on Santana; and finally kissed her, coat in hand, and luggage forgotten. Santana kissed her blonde.

"Could you be, anymore cheesy?" Santana asked looking at does lips.

"Shut up, I know you wanted to do it..."

"I want to, do you."

"Wanky." Quinn smiled on her arms.

"Well, kids that's how I got your mom. To say I love you-"

"Don't tell them lies..." Quinn spoke, from the door frame.

"Come on, sweetheart. I could never..." Santana smiled at her children. "Totally my plan." She winked.

Giggles filled their bedroom.

The children got the pg, version of the story. Thank god, it wasn't filled with curse words, and sex.

"By the way, you never told me. What that meant."

"It was the first thing, I said to you." Santana smiled at her now wife.


End file.
